


Example

by RovingRanger



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Bad Things Happen Bingo in one fic, But it doesn't happen, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, I said suitless Vader but he gets a suit after all, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Mentions of Slavery, Not Beta Read, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Break, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), R2-D2 is a hero, Sassy Obi-Wan Kenobi, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Start of the Resistance, Suitless Darth Vader, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 40,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RovingRanger/pseuds/RovingRanger
Summary: The 212th battalion receives different orders during the Great Jedi Purge. As a High General, Jedi Councilor, the Negotiator, and Anakin's mentor, Obi-wan has had a lot of influence. Palpatine decides to use this and has him brought to Coruscant. By using the Jedi Master as an example of what happens to those that oppose the emerging Empire, Palpatine hopes to squelch all resistance.Obi-wan has other plans.(Some things change. Some things don't.)
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, background Padme Amidala/Vader
Comments: 153
Kudos: 463





	1. What Have You Done?

General Kenobi was being dragged off the ship and through the halls by his own troops. Their hands on his arms and shoulders showed none of the camaraderie they had shared until Utapau. His mind is still spinning, full of the agony he had felt screaming through the force before Helix had administered a force suppressant, and the betrayal of his men. He knew something was wrong: his men weren’t acting like themselves, and reasoning with them got no reaction. Cody still has his lightsaber. 

He wiggled again, testing the clones’ hold on him. Their grips tightened, pulling his arms further behind his back. They dragged him behind Cody to the chancellor’s door. The guards there registered the Jedi and instantly leveled their guns at him. Obi-wan found himself holding his breath. 

Cody gave his identification number and said, “Orders were to bring this traitor to the Supreme Commander.” 

The clones were all wearing their helmets, so Obi-wan couldn’t see their faces. He looked from one guard to the other. “Traitor?” he repeated. “Cody, what—” One of the men holding him drove a fist into his stomach. Obi-wan would have doubled over, but the doors were opening and the clones were dragging him through. Obi-wan took in the Chancellor’s office, brow furrowing at the large broken window and glass on the floor. This was all ignored by the figure swathed in dark fabric that stood with his back to them. The Jedi had a bad feeling that he knew who the ‘Supreme Commander’ was. Who would also be the Sith Lord they had been searching for. 

The clones forced him to his knees at the foot of the steps leading up to the Chancellor’s desk. Cody snapped a salute and stepped aside. 

“General Kenobi, how kind of you to join us.” The dark figure turned from the gaping hole overlooking Coruscant, revealing a gray pallor and warped face. Beady yellow eyes took in the Jedi’s position, a smile further creasing the Sith’s skin. The voice was undoubtedly the voice of Chancellor Palpatine. 

“What have you done?” Obi-wan demanded, horror filling him as pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. “Why did you orchestrate all this?”

Palpatine chuckled darkly. “Too late you catch on,” he said. “It is simple, really,” he said. “Chaos. Fear. Resentment. The products of war. The galaxy has seen the weakness of the Jedi Order, resent them, and now look for a power that can save them.” 

“You?” Obi-wan said sarcastically. “The Republic won’t stand for it.” 

Palpatine—or Sidious, really—merely smiled, taking Obi-wan’s lightsaber from Cody. “You have done well,” he said to the clone. “Go fetch my apprentice. He is just arriving from Mustafar.” 

“At once, my lord.” Cody left without a backward glance.

“An apprentice?” Obi-wan questioned. “So soon after Dooku?” 

“Dooku was merely a tool. A front, if you will,” Sidious said, walking over to sit at the desk. “As was the Separatist movement. Now that their purpose is at an end, they have been taken care of. The galaxy shall be at peace. A new order will be established.” 

Obi-wan opened his mouth to reply but was stopped short by the hiss of the doors and Cody’s return. His eyes swiveled to see the figure behind his commander, and his confusion and horror only grew. “Anakin?” he asked weakly. 

He felt as though all of the air had been sucked from the room as Anakin crossed the room and knelt before Sidious. “It is done, master.”

“Well done, Lord Vader,” Sidious said, grinning over Anakin’s head at Obi-wan. “You have shown yourself worthy of being my apprentice.” 

Obi-wan tried to stand, but the troopers were relentless. One kicked him behind the knee, keeping him kneeling there. “Anakin, why? What have you done?” 

Anakin stood slowly and turned. Obi-wan recoiled at the expression on his former apprentice’s face and the sulfur sickness tainting his eyes. “What is he doing here?” Anakin demanded as Sidious rose from the desk. “Why was he spared?”

Spared? Obi-wan couldn’t speak, overcome by the hatred in Anakin’s eyes and the memory of hundreds of voices crying out in the force before he’d been cut off from it. Jedi deaths. Were they all…? Was he the only…?

Sidious came slowly down the steps. “General Kenobi has been a figurehead for the Grand Army of the Republic and was a member of the Jedi Council. Many saw him as a hero, the perfect Jedi.” Sidious’ lip curled. Now that the Jedi have been exposed as traitors, the people will want assurance. The false Negotiator will now help us usher in the new order.”

“I will never help you,” Obi-wan growled. “Anakin, come to your senses! This isn’t peace, it’s tyranny! There might still be a way to fix this—” 

At an unseen signal, the clones pressing on him disappeared and the troopers stepped back. The instant they were, Sidious extended one hand, blue lightning cascading from his fingers and slamming into Obi-wan’s chest. 

The Jedi gasped as his muscles seized. He collapsed to all fours, agony sparking through every vein. Everything but the pain faded to the back of his consciousness. He was vaguely aware of Sidious’ voice. “Too long have you been a thorn in my side, Kenobi,” the Sith hissed. There was the briefest instant where the lightning eased, and Obi-wan drew in a rapid breath of air. His arms turned to mush, and he fell to the floor. Then the lightning doubled as Sidious raised both hands, cackling, and Obi-wan writhed on the ground, sweat beading on his forehead from the intensity of the spasms. 

When at last it ended, Obi-wan’s consciousness was fading. His body felt wrung out. His Jedi attire was smoking. He felt hands grasping him again, his rubbery arms slung over armor, but he was fading too fast to get his feet under him. He hung limply as a hand grasped his hair and yanked his head up. 

“You will help us, Master Kenobi,” the Sith Lord gloated. “Willingness is not required.” 

Obi-wan’s head dropped as Sidious released him and stepped back. Blackness overtook his vision. The last thing he heard was the Sith’s final instruction, “Take him to a prisoner transport. You know what to do.”


	2. Attachments

Obi-wan’s entire body ached. He still felt weakened from the Sith lightning, and a quick beating on the transport ship didn’t help. His spirit felt just as beaten down as his body. First his men turned on him. As far as he knew, the Jedi had been eradicated, even those that had been at the temple. Younglings. And Anakin… Anakin had killed the Separatist leaders, with no trials and from the sound of things no opportunity to protect themselves. He’d recognized some of the clones that beat him. Some from the 501st, and Boil. He’d tried to appeal to them, but they didn’t react to their names or his voice. 

Now he was strung up with his back against the wall of a prison transport, his wrists anchored above his head, and a thin force-inhibiting collar locked around his neck. His heart ached as he watched the clones guarding him methodically scrubbing away all marks from their armor, piece by piece.  
When the transport came to a standstill, the clones came to attention, looking neither right nor left. Obi-wan waited for them to release his restraints and cart him off. Long minutes passed, and no one moved. 

“Is there a problem?” Obi-wan asked mildly. The troopers didn’t react, so he kept talking, hoping to get some kind of response. Any indication that the men he knew were still in there. “It’s been a long day. So far I’ve fought a battle, incinerated a four-armed cyborg, traveled back to Coruscant, and met a lot of strangers, including our oh-so-highly-esteemed new Emperor. I’d like a quiet prison cell now if you don’t mind.” 

The narrow landing dock opened, the troopers snapping salutes as Anakin walked up the ramp. The hood of Anakin’s robe was pulled up, hiding his curly mane of hair and casting his face in shadow. “No time for that, my old master,” Anakin said. Even his voice had changed; flatter, darker, seething with hatred and anger that chilled Obi-wan’s bones. 

“Why?” Obi-wan stubbornly refused to look away from Anakin. “What time is it?” 

“Time for change,” his former apprentice said, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Finally.” 

“Anakin, Palpatine is evil! This change will destroy the Republic!” 

Impossibly, Anakin’s features darkened further. “And from my point of view the Jedi are evil!” he shouted back, stalking closer. “The Jedi were too weak to do what had to be done. The war could have ended long ago were it not for them. They were corrupt.” 

“I know you were angry with the Council, Anakin. I know things have been strained between us—”

Anakin lifted a hand and extended it with his fingers open. Instantly pressure squeezed around Obi-wan’s throat, cutting off his air and pushing him back against the wall. Obi-wan had been force-choked before and knew it would be useless, but he still pulled futilely downward, trying to free his hands to claw at the pressure. 

“You are one of them, Obi-wan,” his former apprentice said bitterly. “Too emotionless and prideful to do what had to be done to end the war. You and the Council. Refusing to see that you were wrong. Emotion is not wrong. It is power, not darkness!” Anakin made a motion with his hand, and the pressure crushing Obi-wan’s windpipe disappeared.

He coughed, feeling as if his throat were coated in sand. “I tried to teach you, Anakin. The Jedi Code does not teach us not to have emotion; it simply teaches us not to let it rule our actions! We tried to put the needs of others above ourselves—is that not love? The Code applies to our role as peacemakers and protectors. It dictates not allowing our personal feelings to cost the greater good. By not allowing emotion to rule our actions we can make logical decisions that benefit the most people.” 

He watched emotions war across Anakin’s face. “And who are the Jedi, to be the ones that decide what the ‘greater good’ is?” Anakin demanded. “All your talk of the Code actually teaching love is a lie. Are we not warned to avoid attachments?” he spat. 

Obi-wan’s heart broke. “Anakin, the warning is against attachments that distract us from our duty to the people. Attachment is not forbidden. How else would a master and padawan form a bond? We still care about people. It’s just… we are advised against attachments that prevent us from being objective. By judging a situation as if attachment to individuals were not a factor, it is in its own way a protection of those same loved ones.” Anakin’s face clouded in anger and disbelief, but Obi-wan rushed on, pushing the words through his ravaged throat. “It makes them less of a target for those that would seek to manipulate us. Because of our code, they are only marginally more at risk for being targeted than someone we don't know.” 

“Satine wasn’t protected.”

Obi-wan blanched, internal pain lancing through him at the memory of the Duchess. “Satine died because of my attachment to her, yes,” Obi-wan admitted heavily. His throat tightened of its own accord, and he swallowed. “But it was the dark side that drove Maul to use her. It fueled his hatred. His need for revenge.” He looked up. “That very dark side drives Palpatine. He will use you, Anakin, but he doesn’t care about you. Just your power.”

Anakin stepped even closer, his lightsaber summoned to his hand. He ignited it, and its glow illuminated the dark space. “The Chancellor was always there for me,” he hissed. “He listened. He understood. He trusts me, unlike you!”

Obi-wan sagged against the wall. How had he failed his apprentice so badly? There had been times when they clashed, but this? “You are my brother. I loved you,” he said brokenly. “Anakin—”

“No more,” Anakin said, his face contorting with complicated rage. He handed something that had been hidden within the folds of his cloak to one of the guards. Anakin backed off, leveling his saber had Obi-wan. “You always did use words too much. Your lies will not twist anyone to your will ever again.” He turned on his heel, switching off his saber and snapping an order to the clone trooper. “Put that on him and then bring him in. It is nearly time.” He paused, speaking over his shoulder to Obi-wan. “And my name is Vader.” 

Obi-wan watched him go, then eyed the thing in the trooper’s hands. He recognized it just as the guards moved in. He tugged at the restraints, pushing his head back until it collided with the wall. One of the troopers gripped his jaw hard. Obi-wan thrashed, but they succeeded in prying his jaw open and sliding a strap around his lower jaw that compressed his tongue to the bottom of his mouth. The other guard grabbed his hair, pulling Obi-wan’s head forward and allowing the other trooper to buckle another strap behind the jedi’s head, preventing him from scraping the tongue depressor off. That done, a bulkier contraption was buckled to his face, covering his mouth. 

Obi-wan tried to speak as the guards released his hands from the wall of the transport. The muzzle absorbed the gargling sound, making him mute. Obi-wan’s eyes narrowed as his hands were cuffed in front of him. For the first time, he felt defeated. No lightsaber, no force, no friends. No voice. 

He was out of weapons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter for today. But Anakin and Obi-wan get to have a chat. Any familiar-sounding dialogue of course belongs to Lucas Films/Disney.  
> Fills square for "chained to a wall" in Bad Things Happen Bingo. Plus a bonus, cuz you know, if Palpatine's going to keep the sass-Master around he has to keep him quiet.


	3. To Thunderous Applause

They had blindfolded him, but he knew where he was. He had been here many times, far too many for someone that did not enjoy politics or the spotlight. The muffled murmur of voices cleared as they turned him around a sharp corner. He tripped as an unexpected step caught the toe of his boot. He still felt wobbly from his meeting with the Sith Lord. The guards kept him upright, pulling him up the two short steps and turning him with hands on his shoulders. The cuff was removed from one wrist and his back collided with something hard as they threw him against it. His shoulders rotated as his arms were wrenched backward and his hands re-cuffed behind the pole. 

Pole? There were no poles or posts in this room, not normally. What was going on now? He heard one of the guards speaking into a commlink. 

“Blindfold,” one muttered. A second later the cloth was ripped from his head, and Obi-wan blinked, taking in his surroundings. 

As he had thought, he was in the Senate building, in the large conference room. The individual pods were filled with the galactic representatives, listening to the Chancellor. Obi-wan was in one of the pods as well, but it had been modified. There was no seating. Instead, he stood on a small platform erected in the center, tied to a thick post that wasn’t all that much higher than the top of his head. If he had use of the Force, maybe he could jump straight and high enough to get his arms over it… but he didn’t have the Force. 

“The attempt on my life has left me scarred,” the Sith Lord was saying. “As you now know, the Jedi Order has betrayed us all. The valiant troops of the Republic have removed the threat to the galaxy. One of the perpetrators has been detained.” 

He had scarcely had time to take it all in when he felt the pod detaching from its port. He adjusted his balance as it began moving forward, out into the open space. His stomach sank as eyes swung toward him. His tunics clearly marked him as a Jedi and murmurs broke out. Obi-wan lifted his chin, eyes sweeping the room. The pod came to a gliding stop next to the Sith Lord’s. 

“Our trust in the Jedi has been misplaced. They have deceived us, deviously seeking our trust and insisting they protect us. Their crimes are tainted with the bitterness of betrayal. They had already gained too much power. How many of our planets have the Jedi manipulated under the guise of diplomacy?” Cries rang out. Obi-wan had enough experience to recognize they were in support of what the Sith was saying. Sidious lifted a gnarled hand and pointed at Obi-wan. “The Jedi have dipped their hands into influence across the galaxy. How many agreements and policies have been dictated by this very Jedi?” 

The outcries escalated. Obi-wan’s heart raced. Surely the Senators would see through this? The blatant lies turned his stomach. The Sith continued, outlining the supposed war crimes of the Jedi Order and depicting the Jedi Council as plotters of a power coup, using the war to increase the Republic’s dependence on them. Under the Republic the planets of our nations have been separate entities, dependent on the Jedi for protection and liaison. Under the Jedi, slavery has flourished. Millions have been slain in a war that the Jedi generals have so cunningly orchestrated. 

“Upon discovering this plot, I have contacted the remaining leaders of the Separatist movement. We have come to an agreement. The war has ended, and the Republic shall be reorganized into a new galactic empire!” 

The noise was deafening. The cheers pummeled Obi-wan like physical blows. He saw Senators applauding, some dancing, most cheering. Nausea bubbled in his stomach as the Sith Lord raised his arms in triumph, soaking in the applause. 

Sidious waited until the sound died down enough for him to be heard. Then he turned to point a condemning finger at Obi-wan once more. “And what remains of the traitorous Jedi Order shall know the empire’s might. The renowned Negotiator shall serve as a reminder that none shall be able to overthrow the power of the Empire!” 

More applause. Obi-wan felt the weight of hate being directed his way, and he understood. This was why he had been spared when the rest of the Jedi were killed. He was to be both scapegoat and assurance of the Sith’s power. If he, a Jedi, could be subdued and made powerless, what could those loyal to the Republic do? 

A new sense of purpose partially filled the gaping emptiness in his chest. As long as he could, he would resist. It may be a fruitless effort, but he would undermine the “absolute power” of his captors as best he could. 

He squirmed, eyeing the armed guards that stood to either side of him. The pod was small, and he judged the distance before he kicked outward, just catching the guard’s elbow. The gun clattered to the floor, the guard spinning partway around. A painful jolt began worming its way up Obi-wan’s arms as the stun cuffs locking his arms around the pole activated. His nerve endings exploded with pain, and Obi-wan grunted inaudibly. 

The second guard turned, the stock of his blaster slamming into Obi-wan’s gut. Obi-wan kicked out again, a low kick to the guard’s shin, but the guard dodged and pushed a hand across Obi-wan’s cheekbone, turning his head so far his neck popped. The guard could break his neck. Obi-wan wilted against the pole and the electricity from the cuffs cut off. He struggled to breathe through just his nose, chest heaving from the latest electric shocks. The guard kept his head turned sharply. 

Obi-wan’s eyes locked with one of the Senators. It was Alderaan’s, he realized dimly. Senator Organa was sitting forward, one hand reaching for the panel that would allow him to maneuver out into the floor. Obi-wan still knew his friend well enough to know Bail was going to attempt an appeal to get him released. It was written all over the man’s face. Obi-wan felt a modicum of comfort at the man’s intent, but he knew it would be suicide if Bail went through with it. 

Obi-wan maintained eye contact with the Senator and shook his head minutely. Don’t, he tried to warn. It won’t work. It will only endanger you. He could see Bail struggling with it, his hand still extended toward the panel. The guard released the pressure on his cheek and jaw, but Obi-wan kept his head turned, staring Bail down until the Senator slowly retracted his hand and sat back. 

Only then did Obi-wan roll his head back to a more normal position. He ignored the jeers from some of the Senate. Those ones were vultures, finding satisfaction in the prisoner’s treatment. His own satisfaction came from watching the guards resume their positions at a distance just a little further away and knowing that Sidious was secretly seething from his platform. 

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. His rebellion had begun. 

With a gesture, the prisoner was dismissed, and the pod slid its way back to its docking station. Several more clone troopers met them there, training their blasters on Obi-wan while the others released him from the pole and repositioned his arms in front of him. The blindfold was placed back over his eyes, and the guards marched him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fills square "Tied to a Pole" for Bad Things Happen Bingo.  
> Star Wars obviously belongs to Lucas Films/Disney.


	4. Disillusioned

Padme couldn’t believe it. She alternated between pacing and staring across the city to the smoking Jedi Temple. Her hands rested on her belly as tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew the Jedi better than most senators. The Jedi wouldn’t do this. She began pacing again, her mind returning to the devastating meeting of hours before. The Republic had just lost everything. An empire with a self-appointed Emperor? She had already concluded that the Jedi had confronted Palpatine to try and stop it from happening. 

What she couldn’t figure out was how Jedi across the galaxy had been eradicated so quickly. Some footage had been released of the clones turning on their commanders. It made Padme feel sick. Anakin had always spoken so highly of the clones, and of his captain, Rex. What would make them turn on the Jedi, and all around the same time? 

She paused by the window again, watching the smoke drift across the sky. Where was Anakin? Surely he would have contacted her by now. She knew he had been on Coruscant the night before, when the temple had first caught fire. Had he been hurt?

She couldn’t stand to wait any longer. Dangerous or not, she had to find Anakin. She turned and headed for the door, determined to find a transport that would take her to the Jedi temple. She would start her search there, and if she didn’t find him she would—

The door slid open before she could reach it, revealing her husband. Padme rushed the final steps to him and hugged him as best she could. “Anakin! I’ve been so worried! The most terrible thing has happened.”

“Terrible?”

She looked up at him, startled at the neutral tone of his voice. There was no laughter in his eyes, nor did his brow furrow in that way it had when he was concerned. 

“Yes. Palpatine has taken over. The Republic and democracy have been replaced with an empire. And… and the Jedi are being blamed for the war. For everything.” 

He barely reacted. Instead he pulled her over to a sofa. Once seated, he took her hand. “It’s for the best, Padme.” 

She pulled her hand away. “Anakin, how can you say that? Without democracy there is no balance of power. The people will be helpless. And what about your friends? What about Obi-wan? He was there, at the meeting, displayed as some kind of war prize. It was awful.” 

Anakin reached for her hand again, enfolding it between his larger ones. “You don’t need to worry about a balance of power anymore,” he said. “I have taken care of it. I have brought peace to our new empire.” 

Padme’s eyes widened. “Our empire?” 

For the first time something like a smile crossed her husband’s features. But it wasn’t his smile. It was different, in a way she didn’t like. “Yes. The Emperor will help me save you. He is old. When he is out of the way, we can shape the empire however we choose.” 

Padme stared. Was this her Anakin? She had known he was capable of terrible things. He had told her such, years ago, when he slaughtered the Tuskens that killed his mother. But she had seen his emotion afterwards, and she knew he had a lot of goodness in him. “What about Obi-wan?” she managed. 

Anakin looked away. “Obi-wan will pay for his crimes.” 

“But he’s your friend! We can’t just go along with this.” 

Anakin let go of her hand and stood so suddenly Padme felt a flash of fear. Anger tightened his jaw and he looked at her with an aggression that had never been directed at her. “Everything I have done, I have done for you. To save you!” Padme leaned back, one hand on her stomach. Anakin struggled for a moment, then his features softened. “This is a good thing, Padme. In time, you will see.” 

He swept away without another word, leaving Padme sitting there reeling from shock. He couldn’t be part of this. She felt drained. She leaned back against the pillows and wearily closed her eyes. What kind of world would her child be born into? For the first time, she didn’t know. She had never felt such consuming despair. 

*****

It wasn’t the worst cell he had ever been in. At least it was dry. Obi-wan sat on his heels in a meditating position, eyes closed, letting his mind wander. He couldn’t fully meditate with the thin collar around his neck, but it was infinitely better than nothing. 

They had not put the muzzle back on after his “interrogation,” a fact Obi-wan was grateful for. The corners of his mouth were sore. He was certain he had large bruises forming on his ribs. One eye was tender but not terribly swollen. Sitting here with slow even breaths was the most comfortable position, with the added benefit of being familiar. They’d deposited him here hours ago, leaving only his wrists restrained. Unable to sleep, he had finally taken up meditating. He had wrestled the grief and denial into a form of acceptance, and now found his mind wandering to the coming days. It would be unpleasant, no doubt. He would do what he could to undermine the empire. Escape, if the chance came. But where would he go? 

He heard voices outside his cell. He didn’t move, recognizing the voice of his former apprentice and the Sith Lord. 

“You won’t break him through physical pain alone. Ventress once tried for weeks with no success,” Anakin was saying. The voices were right outside, but Obi-wan maintained his even breathing and ignored them.

“Do you have a better way, my apprentice? You do know him best, after all.” 

“Kadavo.” 

Obi-wan’s eyes flew open. He looked up slowly, meeting Anakin’s gaze through the red haze of the retainment field. Bile clawed up his throat at the mere mention of that horrid place. 

“When he returned from Kadavo, it was the most broken I have ever seen him. The slavers there controlled him by threatening to punish the other slaves in his place.”

“Ah.” The Sith’s head turned, a sickening smile twisting his colorless lips. “Of course, he always wants to help. If he is present when we deal with the more outspoken dissenters, it will remind them of their place. And seeing them receive their sentences will remind him of his.” 

Obi-wan’s heart sank. Unpleasant, indeed.


	5. Glitch in the System

Palpatine had never seemed so full of himself, Obi-wan mused. The Emperor, on the other hand, had a throne and throne room. The Sith Lord sat on a slightly raised dais, making sure he was higher than those in front of him even while sitting. It was an effective psychological tactic, Obi-wan knew, if somewhat pompous. 

He watched and listened to the Emperor’s meetings through the grainy red haze of a containment field. He rotated slowly, able to move his head but not much else. They had muzzled him again so he couldn’t speak to anyone. So far he hadn’t been forced to watch any sentences or punishments. Just listen to P--Sidious reorganize and demolish everything the Republic had worked for. 

The room was empty now, save for Sidious, who continued to plot. Obi-wan’s prison made another rotation. By now he was mildly irritated with the endless circles, much as he had been on Geonosis. If only Obi-wan had asked the right questions when Dooku had warned him, rather than trying to redirect the anxiety the Count’s words caused. He idly wondered if this was the same retainment core; he wouldn’t put it past the Sith Lord. It had certainly seen better days. Every few minutes there was the briefest flicker in the field, a second of weakened power, where its hold on him lessened. If he timed it right, maybe…

Sidious stood and ambled to the far side of the room. On the return trip he looked up, smiling wickedly as he saw Obi-wan watching him. “Master Kenobi,” he said with false geniality. “I’d forgotten you were here. You’ve been so quiet.” 

Obi-wan exaggerated rolling his eyes, his head following the movement. Then he had to wait until he came back around again. By then Sidious had paced closer. “A rather dull day for you, I’m afraid,” Sidious said apologetically. His eyes gleamed. “Our next visitor should change that, however.” The Sith returned to his throne and waved a hand at the trooper guiding the door before settling himself. 

A few minutes passed, and Obi-wan’s apprehension only increased. Whatever was coming, it wouldn’t be good. 

The doors slid open, revealing a group of soldiers and a small group of ambassadors. Dread weighed on his shoulders as Obi-wan recognized Riyo Chuchi. He had first met her on the Pantoran moon and had been impressed with her courage. He had noted her integrity and growing abilities as a leader in recent years. He watched as the guards escorted her and two of her entourage closer to the Emperor’s throne. 

Senator Chuchi acknowledged the Emperor with a slight bow of the head. Obi-wan smiled beneath the muzzle. The soldiers could not claim she hadn’t shown respect, but it wasn’t a show of obeisance, either. It could have been a greeting of equals. 

“Riyo Chuchi, I believe,” Sidious said, steepling his fingers together. “You have expressed grievance with our united Empire.” 

Senator Chuchi looked directly at Obi-wan. “Yes.” 

There was no elaboration, and Obi-wan inclined his head briefly to her in approval. 

Sidious didn’t miss the exchange. “Ah.” Distaste soured his already curdling tone. “And do your fellow ambassadors share this outdated loyalty?” The troopers that had escorted the group in lifted their blasters a fraction. 

The ambassador to Riyo’s right lifted his chin. “I stand with Senator Chuchi,” he said. His voice had a melodic lilt to it that helped disguise the slight tremor. 

Obi-wan glanced at Sidious. The Sith was ramrod straight, bony fingers pressing into the armrests of his throne. Obi-wan could feel the resentment coming off the Sith as if it were a tangible thing. “And you?” Sidious asked the remaining politician. 

The Pantoran glanced at Obi-wan, his eyes instantly sliding away and landing on the guards’ blasters. Obi-wan knew what he was going to say before he’d even opened his mouth. “No,” he whispered. He cleared his throat, then said more loudly, “I disagree. The Pantora system should support the Empire.” 

Obi-wan groaned, not that anyone could hear it. The Sith Lord’s plan of intimidation was working. The momentary weakening of the retainment field was due soon. He had to do something to show the Empire was not in complete control. Something to counter the rot of the Sith. 

“I would expect no less of a true ambassador for the people.” Sidious dismissed the Pantoran, and he hurried away, not meeting anyone’s eyes. As soon as the door shut behind him, all eyes turned to Sidious. 

“If you refuse to represent your people in a way that most benefits them, perhaps you could serve in a different way,” Sidious mused. He oozed anticipation and insidious pleasure at his next words to the guards. “Take them to a cell and contact the remaining Zygerrians. They can train these radicals as… servants.” He lingered over the word “servants,” relishing it. 

Instantly, the Pantora ambassador with the lilting voice buckled, fear sapping his strength. Gray tainted Senator Chuchi’s blue skin, but she didn’t fall. Obi-wan threw himself against the retainment field with all his strength, his sore throat complaining as he shouted soundlessly at Sidious. Where was the glitch? Any second now! It had to be! 

The guards closed around the Pantorans, picking up the collapsed ambassador and placing hands on Riyo’s shoulders. The Senator barely concealed her terror as Sidious began to chuckle, a horrible wheezing sound that quickly became a full cackle as he looked back and forth between the departing group and Obi-wan. 

Then it happened. The brief flicker in the retainment field was just enough for him to muscle free of it. He rolled to his feet in one fluid motion, ignoring his bruised ribs, and ran to help the Pandorans. One hand rose to pull at the collar preventing him from accessing the Force, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get it off in time to be of use. Sidious was rising from his throne. Obi-wan put on a burst of speed and tackled one of the guards, hoping that the politicians would be able to make use of the bedlam and flee. 

Too late. He was just getting his feet under him again when a blaster connected with the side of his head. He dropped to one knee, and then he felt gloved hands on him, holding him there. Muddling pain radiated from just above his temple, stealing the clarity from his thoughts. 

Sidious descended the steps from the throne and approached the Jedi with the steadiness of impending doom, his dark robes trailing on the floor. “Impressive,” the Sith snarled, “but a foolish attempt. I noticed you do not care for your collar. I regret that I cannot take it off. However, I may give you your voice back for the evening.” He waited for the muzzle to be removed before continuing. “How—” 

“I recommend a tailor.” Obi-wan interrupted as soon as he could speak. His voice was raspy and dry, but he succeeded in catching the Sith Lord off guard. “For your sleeves,” he clarified,” so you don’t have to walk like a rancor.” He tilted his head and adopted a puzzled expression, feeling something drip down his temple as he did. “Or is that just personal preference?” 

Sidious somehow managed to loom over him, eyes smoldering sulfur. “Perhaps you and I will accompany the others to the cells.”

“I would hate to keep your venerated self from important business,” Obi-wan managed. He grunted as the guard twisted his arm painfully high behind his back. 

“I will make time for this,” Sidious said with a sickly smile. “I’m looking forward to it, in fact. It must be time to introduce you to an old friend of yours.”


	6. Strikes and Counter-Strikes

Another groan was wrung out of him as the air was driven from his lungs. His breathing was ragged between strikes. His hands clenched into fists as the electrowhip sent another burst of agony through him, the wild heat sparking across every nerve before fizzling out. His vision blurred in and out. Not that there was much to look at on the wall Obi-wan was chained to. He bent his head forward, waiting for the next blow. “There’s been an error,” he muttered. He leaned a little more heavily against the wall through the next wave of shattering pain. 

“Do speak up, General Kenobi,” Sidious said from somewhere behind him. 

“I said, there’s been an error. The electrowhip and I were never friends.” 

“But your paths have crossed at least once before.” Obi-wan sucked in air as the whip filament dragged electric fire across his shoulders, gritting his teeth at Sidious’s words. “A brutal people, Zygerrians, but efficient. I imagine it will not take long for them to rebuild.” 

The next strike hadn’t come yet. Obi-wan craned over his shoulder. “I would give you a nasty look, but you already have one.” Sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. 

“I’ve been told you were… amusing,” Sidious said. The false friendliness was gone. “I’m afraid I disagree.” 

“Well, you can’t force everyone to like you,’ Obi-wan said pointedly. “Though I suppose you are already learning that.” A brooding silence filled the cell. Obi-wan braced for the whip to fall. 

It didn’t come. Obi-wan twisted to look behind him, the motion pulling at the burned skin on his back. He wasn’t expecting to see the guard to be holding the whip at the ready, his hand shaking so hard he vibrated up to the elbow. The face of the trooper’s helmet stared blankly. 

Sidious watched the trooper with a heavy frown. “Continue,” he ordered. He was deceptively calm, but Obi-wan knew rage was bubbling just below the surface. He had seen it often enough in Anakin. 

“I’m sorry, General,” the clone trooper choked. Then he flicked the whip forward, its bright end lashing Obi-wan’s side. 

Obi-wan rode the electricity with a small gasp. “What did you do to them?” he demanded. 

“Good soldiers follow orders,” Sidious said silkily. “Soldier, go grab my other tool and bring it here.” 

The trooper dropped the whip and left the room without a word. The crackling whip retracted as it hit the ground, and Obi-wan slumped in the restraints, hanging from his wrists.   
“Don’t feel to badly, Master Kenobi.” The Sith Lord was moving at his shambling pace. “The clones don’t have much choice in the matter.” The Force closed around Obi-wan, and he felt himself flipped around so his back was no longer to the room. He was slammed against the wall, the filaments holding his wrists buzzing angrily as they crossed. 

Obi-wan blinked the spots out of his vision, forcing himself to stay in the present moment. “I’d say that’s better, but you’re still here,” he observed drily. He took some satisfaction in the way Sidious twitched with irritation. 

“Get it all out now, Master Jedi,” the Sith growled. “While you still can.” 

Obi-wan quirked a brow. “All of it?” he repeated. “Ah, how much time do you have?” 

The trooper returned and handed a knife to the Sith Lord. The blade was dark and narrow. Sidious took it in one hand and turned to face Obi-wan, his eyes gleaming as brightly as the blade. 

Obi-wan eyed the knife, preparing himself for the coming pain. “Apologies,” he said as breezily as he could manage. “My tongue does tend to get away from me at times.” 

“It won’t anymore,” Sidious said darkly. To the trooper, “Hold his head still.” 

Obi-wan instinctively jerked away from the guard. But there was no escaping, not in his position. He thrashed, but gloved hand grasped a handful of hair. The other gripped his lower jaw. Obi-wan instinctively reached for the Force as the Sith Lord approached, but all he felt was a wisp of horror emanating from the politicians in the next cell. A wide grin widened Sidious’ face as he lifted the dagger. Obi-wan clenched his teeth together, determined to make the gruesome task as difficult as possible.

A commlink on the guard’s wrist beeped. “Sir,” it transmitted. “There is a situation on Mandalore. We need the Supreme Commander up here.” Sidious paused, the dagger frozen midair. “Immediately,” the commlink piped. 

Sidious spun on his heel, the dagger disappearing within his voluminous robe. The clone trooper stepped back from Obi-wan, hesitating briefly before following in the Emperor’s wake. The retainment field across the doorway was activated, and the prisoners were left alone. 

Obi-wan released a long breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He’d pushed the Sith too far. Better think of a way to rebel in silence, he thought wearily. His heart raced as he thought of what Sidious planned to do. Far sooner than he expected, he heard someone deactivate the field around the door. His eyes opened, panic seizing in his chest until he saw who it was. 

“Bail,” he said with relief. 

The Senator entered the cell and inspected the energized chains. “Are you all right?” he asked. “What have they been doing to you?” 

“Not much, yet,” Obi-wan said dismissively. “How did you… what are you doing here?” 

“I thought that would be obvious,” Bail replied, frowning in concentration. “Are you sure they haven’t done much to you? I have a shuttle hidden outside. It’s small, but it will get us beyond the atmosphere where my private ship is currently waiting.” 

“How many can it fit?” 

“Three at most,” Organa said, freeing one of Obi-wan’s hands. 

“Then take them.” Obi-wan gestured towards the opposite cell block, where Senator Chuchi and her fellow politician were being held. Bail drew back, studying the Jedi’s face.

“Please.” Obi-wan gazed intently at the Senator, sensing his reluctance. “I’ll be fine. Get them out.” He lifted his arm and motioned for Bail to reattach the chain. “I’ll still be here later.” 

Bail didn’t move, so Obi-wan sharpened his tone. “You know I can handle whatever they do to me.” And I’ll probably deserve every bit of it, he didn’t say. “Please, just do it.” 

Organa cursed and refastened the chain around Obi-wan’s wrist. “I hope you know what you are doing.” The Senator said. Concern deepened the small lines around his eyes. 

“Take them to Baluria,” the Jedi said as his friend was leaving. “The coordinates are in my personal archive, in an encrypted file.” He gave Bail the password and continued. “The Council and I were settling things so the clones could take ownership of the planet and gain full citizenship. Very few knew of the project. There should be enough buildings and supplies there to sustain a group for a while.” 

Senator Organa nodded, catching the implication. “I’ll start selectively spreading the word,” he said. “Those that need to flee the Empire will thank you.” 

“Do you know Aluresh hand signals?” Obi-wan asked quickly. Bail shook his head. “Learn it, and anyone else you trust that might need inside information. Perhaps Padme. If we’re going to have a chance, we need apparently neutral parties. I can sign any inside information I overhear to them.” Organa gave a curt nod, and Obi-wan smiled faintly. “Thank you,” he finished softly. 

Bail disappeared, resetting the doorway. A moment later Obi-wan caught a glimpse of his friend leading Senator Chuchi and the ambassador down the hall and out of sight. He listened anxiously, but no alarm sounded. He eventually relaxed and closed his eyes again. 

They’d gotten away. Not only that, but he may have found a way to strike a more effective blow against the fledgling Empire. In spite of the pain radiating from different parts of his body, Obi-wan felt more at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and all the comments and kudos!


	7. Masters

It was Anakin, not Sidious, that came for him. The young man’s features were set in a sullen glower. He entered the cell with two troopers behind him and stormed up to his old master. “The Senators that were in that cell are gone. How long ago did they leave?” 

Obi-wan looked up but didn’t say a word. Anakin knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to just hand over the information. 

“Fine,” Anakin snarled. He turned on his heel and ordered the troopers to bring Obi-wan. Obi-wan pushed away a wave of dizziness as the troopers pulled him from the cell. He winced and resigned himself to the rough treatment of being pushed down a long hallway and into another interrogation room. It was small and empty, save for the austere device in the center. The troopers shoved him toward it, grasping his arms above the elbows. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Obi-wan said softly to the troopers. “I know you don’t want to.” 

There was the briefest pause, and Obi-wan felt a trickle of hope. Then they hurled him against the interrogation table. Spots danced across his vision as his back was pressed against the cold metal. He tried to draw comfort from the coolness of it against his burns while the troopers secured the restraints at his ankles, wrists, and waist. When they stepped back, the table rotated to tilt back at an unnatural angle that kept him feeling off-balance. Or maybe it was just that his head felt like it was filled with air. When was the last time he had eaten? 

The troopers left, and Anakin entered the small space, a black orb bobbing behind him. Obi-wan’s brow furrowed as he studied the droid. Some of its outer plating was missing, revealing the wires and gears whirring beneath. “What’s this? Obi-wan asked. “Have you replaced R2?” 

“This is an interrogation droid,” Anakin said. His arms folded across his chest. The droid continued to slowly advance towards Obi-wan. One of the plates slid aside, a mechanical arm extending out of it with a long silver needle. 

“And what kind of drug is that?” Obi-wan asked suspiciously. He’d always hated the Medbays, avoiding them whenever possible. The antiseptic stench and needles always reminded him of a time when he had met a crazy scientist as a Padawan. 

Anakin didn’t look at Obi-wan. He was watching the droid, as if analyzing it. Obi-wan had seen the speculative, critical look often while his Padawan had fixed droids and electronics at his workbench. 

Obi-wan watched the end of the needle approach. It was only a foot away and about level with his Adam’s apple. “Anakin, is this droid calibrated correctly?” He didn’t want that needle anywhere near him, but especially not his neck. Obi-wan squirmed as the needle’s point dipped, then wobbled, then plunged into the skin where his neck met his shoulder. Obi-wan hissed through his teeth as the needle was pulled free, the droid retreating backward to bob in the doorway. 

“Well, that was sloppy,” Obi-wan muttered. In only a few seconds he could feel a strange itching sensation in the back of his mind, like something was scratching at his mental shields. He shored them up, strengthening them, before taking inventory of anything else the drug might be doing. He didn’t notice anything, so he inspected the spherical droid once more. There was a symbol on one of the plates that he didn’t recognize. It was a cog with six spokes. 

“The symbol of the new Galactic Empire,” Anakin said stonily. “It is being used to mark property of the Emperor.” His next words were accompanied with a gesture and voice inflection that were so like Anakin it made Obi-wan’s heart ache. “You don’t like it,” his old Padawan said. 

Obi-wan hummed, his lips pressing into a line. “The design is fine. It’s what it represents that bothers me.” The itching sensation in the back of his mind was requiring more concentration to resist. The Jedi Master recognized the sensation as a form of truth serum, pressing him to reveal information. “Why not give the droid an identification number?” he asked. “Suitable for droids, and the clones now too apparently.” 

Two short arms lowered on either side of the interrogation table, electricity sparking between them. Caught in the middle, Obi-wan gasped as the short torrent galloped through him. 

“You know they have names,” Anakin said darkly. 

“Yes,” Obi-wan said tightly. “But they don’t recognize them anymore, or hadn’t you noticed? They call themselves by their numbers now. Whatever Sidious did to them—” 

“The Emperor didn’t do anything to them.” Anakin’s arms unfolded and his hands clenched into fists at his side. Another brief jolt of electricity rattled through Obi-wan, who groaned. “They have simply learned the truth about the Jedi and the war.” Anakin stared at Obi-wan. “The Emperor did want to cut out your tongue, though.”

“I noticed.” 

“I convinced him not to, at least for now. We may need you to make a public statement later. Or convince some of the Outer Rim to stand down. Whatever it is that you do when you negotiate.” 

Obi-wan rolled his eyes. “Two things. First, you are seriously overestimating the amount of influence I would have. Two, any public statement I make would not be in favor of this ‘Empire.’” 

Anakin frowned. “Don’t make me change my mind. Now, enough. I know you’re stalling. Who rescued the other prisoners?” 

Obi-wan dragged his mental shields up and the scratching sensation became more muted once more. He shrugged as best he could, then screamed as blue electricity arced through him yet again. 

“It’s a simple question, Obi-wan,” Anakin snapped. Frustration flushed color across the young man’s features. “They left you there. Why would you protect them?” 

“Yes, they left me there,” Obi-wan agreed. “But I still won’t sell out people who didn’t do anything wrong so they can be sent to the Zygerrians.” 

Anakin grappled with the revelation. “Zygerrians?” 

“What did you think when you joined up with a Sith?” Obi-wan asked, exasperated. “The ruling Sith have always used slaves. It thrives under them. They murder, and lie, and use things up until they’re destroyed. That’s what you joined up with, Anakin.” 

A powerful pulse of electricity pummeled the Jedi’s body, and he screamed again. His head tipped back as Anakin began pacing. 

“I warned you, my name is Vader. And the Senators were to receive a few lashes before being returned to their homeworld, not sold into slavery. The Emperor is going to save this galaxy, Obi-wan, and he’s going to help me save Padme.” 

Obi-wan saw anger raging beneath the surface of his Padawan. The young man was volatile, but he knew he had to try. He took a deep breath. “Is that what your new master told you? He lied. I was there when he gave the sentence.” Anakin tried to interrupt, but Obi-wan talked over him, piercing the young man with his best Jedi Master stare. “As for saving Padme, do you really think the dark side can save anyone? That path gives the illusion of power, but it costs everything. It will cost you your wife.” 

A muscle twitched under Anakin’s eye, and he raised a hand. A powerful force choke squeezed Obi-wan’s throat, pulsing in strength with Anakin’s enraged breaths. “I WILL save her,” the young man snarled. The choke hold eased as something occurred to him. “Wait. You know about me and Padme?” 

Obi-wan coughed. “Of course I do.” 

“Why didn’t you…?”

Obi-wan closed his eyes. “I already explained the Code’s view on attachments,” he said. Dehydration and pain were building a pressurized headache behind his eyes. “At the first Battle of Geonosis you showed you were able to be objective when it came to Padme. You did your duty and continued the pursuit of Dooku despite your rather obvious feelings for her, so no one said anything.” He opened his eyes again to look at his old friend. “She made you happy. She made you a better man. But now Sidious is manipulating you, using that attachment to her to cause fear. When your child is born, you had better make sure they are somewhere far away from your new master.” 

The next electric shock almost seemed to be an afterthought. Anakin continued to pace. Obi-wan turned inward, reinforcing his mental shields against the insistent buzzing in his brain from the drug. 

“You’re wrong. I would know if the Chancellor… if the Emperor was lying to me.” 

“The Council thought we would recognize the darkness of the Sith,” Obi-wan murmured. “We were wrong. It clouded our sight.” 

“You admit you are wrong, and yet you think you are right!” Anakin’s emotion whipped around Obi-wan even without access to the Force. “You always act like you are better than me! The Emperor is my friend. He’s not lying to me.” 

“Fine,” Obi-wan said. “But when he’s not lying, he’s not telling you everything. He’s got you tinkering on his torture toys while he deals with a situation on Mandalore.” The Jedi Master saw the way his old apprentice stilled. “Didn’t tell you that, did he?” he observed shrewdly. A different kind of pain sank into Obi-wan’s chest. “Have you spared one thought of Ahsoka? Do you know where she is? If she is dead too?” 

He broke off in a scream as Anakin initiated a final bolt from the torture device. It tore through him, wresting his remaining strength and burning him from the inside out. The shock seemed to center in his brain, stoking the headache into a raging migraine that ravaged his consciousness. His vision turned gray around the edges. 

Blinking heavily, Obi-wan stared dully at Anakin’s face as it swam in and out of focus. He thought there were traces of tears in the young man’s eyes, but the fact was overpowered by the searing hatred glaring back at him. 

Anakin’s final words to him before he left confirmed it. “I WILL prove that I am better than you,” he promised. “I will make you acknowledge that at last I am the master.” 

******

Vader stalked down the hall, ignoring those that hurriedly stepped out of his path. His anger was joined with irritation the longer it took him to find the Ch—Emperor. His scowl deepened as Obi-wan’s words came back to him, sowing doubt. 

Finally he spotted his Master emerging from a conference room. Vader’s eyes flicked to the holotable, but it was dark. What was his Master up to? Vader forced himself to dip into a shallow bow. “Master,” he greeted. “I request permission to duel Obi-wan.” 

The Emperor turned to look at him, showing no signs of pleasure or displeasure. He simply waited for Vader to explain. 

“I believe he will be more compliant if he realizes that he could never fight his way to freedom.” The lie came easily to Vader, driven by the upheaval in his thoughts. “I also want him to acknowledge my power. I want him on his knees, knowing that I defeated him.” 

The Emperor turned away. “Your raw power is untrained,” the Sith dismissed. “You are still too tempered by the teachings of the Jedi.” 

Vader struggled to keep his anger from showing on his face. He followed behind his Master, refusing to give up. “Am I not powerful?” he demanded. “I can defeat him. I know I can!”

The Emperor rounded on him, only the lower half of his face visible beneath the wide hood. “You would defeat him only by using your hatred. Your anger.” The Sith went silent, privately considering the possible results of such a duel. The boy WAS powerful, but as yet unpredictable. There would be the risk of losing his carefully groomed apprentice, but now that he had the power he had planned for for so long, that didn’t seem as important. He could always find another apprentice. “How would you get him to agree to this?” Sidious asked, his distaste for the Jedi Master clear. “He will hardly fight without incentive.” 

Vader waved a hand impatiently. “As I told you, threaten to punish others if he doesn’t do as we say.”

“And if he does win?” Sidious asked, carefully poking at the boy’s ego to fuel his anger. 

“He won’t.” 

Sidious smirked, sensing the rage and turmoil in his apprentice. The boy’s brash request would serve his ends after all. He would put measures in place in case the Jedi Master did manage to defeat his apprentice. Regardless of the outcome Vader’s anchor in the dark side would be strengthened, either from using his anger or by increasing his resentment. 

“So be it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo square "Electrocuted." Even though that's already been happening... It's a good thing they're all lightning rods.


	8. A Little Motivation

Obi-wan had been returned to his cell and deposited on the bunk. The troopers had been warned not to let him speak to them, if the backhand when he tried was anything to go by. He’d been too woozy to try again. He had slipped into oblivion for an indeterminate amount of time, and when he awoke there was some food and water waiting. 

Obi-wan stared at it. It was probably poisoned or drugged. Perhaps not poisoned, as the Sith apparently still had plans for him. Drugged was more likely. Without the Force, he wouldn’t be able to filter it faster through his system. His headache already felt like his skull was tearing apart, either as an aftereffect of the interrogation drug or from dehydration, he wasn’t sure. He desperately needed a drink. 

He sighed. This line of thinking would continue in circles and get him nowhere. Gingerly taking the small cup of water, he took a small sip. He didn’t taste anything off, so he pushed aside his reservations and finished the water and some of the food. When he stood, he winced as his body reminded him of the past few days. The Jedi began to pace, hoping to loosen stiff muscles. 

“Good. You’ve eaten.” 

Anakin. Obi-wan turned and regarded his old apprentice from across his cell. The young man had his arms crossed, shoulders back, in the same confident stance he often took when surveying a battlefield. “You’ll need the energy for the duel.” 

With his hands cuffed in front of him Obi-wan couldn’t cross his own arms, so he settled for lifting one eyebrow. “Duel?” 

“In two days, you and I will have a duel in one of the warehouses. No interference.” 

“Why?”

Anakin scoffed. ‘Because I want to. You will finally see my power, old man.” 

Obi-wan shook his head. “I won’t do it.” 

“Yes,” Anakin said. “You will.” Something in the younger man’s voice made Obi-wan shiver. A yellow tint flickered in his eyes, like a tiny flame. He tapped the external panel, deactivating the door. “Follow me, or you’ll all regret it.” 

Obi-wan walked to the door, apprehension dragging at his feet more than any chains would. What did his apprentice mean, “you’ll all?” Anakin steered him down a dim corridor, deeper into the prison. Finally, he was guided into a larger chamber and force-pushed against the wall. 

“You could just ask, you know,” Obi-wan said. 

Anakin attached a hook to the cuffs on Obi-wan’s wrists and yanked the Jedi’s arms overhead with a pulley. “For all your powers of observation, you seem to have missed the fact that you are a prisoner.” 

Obi-wan looked at the assortment of chains and sharp devices arranged around the room. “I did gather that, actually.” 

Anakin folded his arms again, eyes narrowing. “Then you know from previous experience that a prisoner is punished when they don’t do as they are told. I will tell you one more time. A duel, in two days, where you will try to defeat me.” 

Obi-wan searched Anakin’s face, aching that the young man’s features were so void of the friend he knew. “Come now, surely I’ve taught you how to be more convincing than that.” 

Anakin left the room. A moment later Obi-wan heard several people coming and shifted on his feet, making the chain rattle overhead. His eyes widened as several clones were pushed into the room by armed klatooinians and lined up against the wall opposite the Jedi Master. They were shoved to their knees, blasters planted on the back of their skulls. 

The blood drained from Obi-wan’s face. He didn’t need the force to confirm their identities: Boil, who had helped beat him on the transport ship; Trapper and his close friend; Crys, with his dyed blonde hair; and Cody. Each was as pale as the clones could be, though their distress did not seem to originate from the klatooinians. They stared back at Obi-wan. Trapper and Boil were shaking. 

“Are you alright?” Obi-wan asked experimentally. “Cody?” 

The commander’s eyes snapped to Obi-wan. “CC-22—” he started. He sat back on his heels, his face contorting. “General. I’m sorry I… I whipped…” He groaned, pressing a fist to his head and doubling over. “Traitor!” 

Obi-wan wrenched at the chains. “Cody? Cody!” 

“Good soldiers,” the commander snarled to the floor. 

Anakin re-entered the room and nodded to the burly klatooinian behind Cody. The clone didn’t resist as he was dragged over to a set of chains and shackled to the wall in a similar position as Obi-wan. The green-skinned klatooinian pulled out an electrojabber and jammed it against Cody’s ribs. 

“Anakin, stop this!” Obi-wan shouted, pulling as hard as he could against the shackles. The metal bit into his wrist, but he ignored it. 

“You won’t do what you are told. Someone has to be punished,” Anakin growled. 

“Then punish ME,” Obi-wan yelled desperately as Cody screamed again. “It’s my doing. They’ve been through enough, just punish me!” 

Anakin strode up to Obi-wan and gripped the Jedi Master’s jaw with his mechanical hand. “These clones have all been around you, to different degrees, in the past few days. They were fine before that.” The iron grip made sure Obi-wan was looking at the clones as Anakin hissed, “YOU did this to them, Obi-wan.” 

“No.” Obi-wan jerked backward and Anakin released him. The darkly dressed young man gestured to the next klatooinian, who prodded Trapper to his feet and towards the wall next to Cody. Obi-wan shouted the clone’s name, yanking the chain, then slumped back. 

“I’ll do it,” he said resignedly. “Just stop hurting them.” 

Self-satisfaction tainted Anakin’s expression. “I thought you would.” He stepped in front of Obi-wan again. “To be sure, these five will stay here, with these guards. If you do anything that indicates you won’t go through with it, they will suffer the consequences. 

Obi-wan looked over Anakin’s shoulder toward Cody and nodded. He was returned to his cell. The cuffs were removed, and he was given food and water. 

Obi-wan put his back to one wall. Two days. Two days to heal. Two days to decide what kind of duel this was going to be. But for a long while all he could think about was the way his padawan’s eyes glimmered with Sith gold. When he finally slept, his dreams were filled with the screams of clones. 

***********

Padme clenched the small packet in her palm before tucking it away. She wouldn’t take it until her babies were born. She was fairly certain there were two of them, anyway. Surely one child couldn’t move around so much. Without Anakin, without her duty to the Republic, there was little to live for. Despair convinced her that her children would be better off not knowing their parents. Tears pooled in her eyes.

There were clone troopers posted outside her door, although they were being called storm troopers now to cut all ties to the Republic. They’d also told her that they had marched with Anakin into the Jedi temple. They wouldn’t tell her why, but in her heart she already knew. The Jedi Order had been declared as eradicated. Her husband had been to see her twice more, and each time she could see less of Anakin in him. 

She had not bothered to brush her hair or do anything for her appearance. The past few days had been nothing but streams of propaganda for the Galactic Empire, flaunting the end of the war as a cover. Every so often she would hear of her husband’s exploits and the world would turn a little more gray. 

She turned to see a blinking light that indicated there was a holo message for her. She reached for it hesitantly, feeling detached from her hand. The message was from Senator… Bail Organa If she read between the lines correctly, there were some that opposed the Empire, and they were organizing somewhere. “If you are able, I would like to discuss this New Galactic Order with you,” Bail said. “I am returning to Coruscant within three standard cycles and have news to share with you.” His smile was bright, and she couldn’t help the curiosity and hope that rose out of the ashes of her despondency. 

There had to be something she could do. Perhaps if enough of the people banded together, they could remove Palpatine. She watched the lines of speeders out the window, and for the first time hoped that perhaps the Republic was not completely gone. 

The door entered, and Padme turned to see C-3P0 walk into the room. He shuffled toward her, his stiff gait jerky, almost agitated. “3PO?” she asked. “Is something wrong?” 

“I am not sure, my lady,” the droid said. “I just heard some odd things on my way here. Most disturbing. Not Master Skywalker!” The droid wrung his metallic hands. 

Worry lodged in Padme’s throat. “Anakin? What did you hear?”

“They say he killed younglings. And that he is about to fight Master Kenobi.” 

Padme felt as though she had been struck. Anakin, kill the younglings? The worry had crossed her mind, but… he loved visiting the creche. He loved having Ahsoka around. It couldn’t possibly be true. He must have hid the younglings somewhere. She needed to talk to him. Now. “When is this fight supposed to happen, 3PO?” 

“Today, my lady. Some of the men outside were talking about it. My lady, are—” 

“Not now,” Padme said. Her dress swished around her ankles as she hurried to the door. If she could talk to him, she could find out what was wrong. Why he had been so distant, and what his crazy plan was. Surely he wouldn’t actually try to kill Obi-wan. If he did… she pushed the thought away. Not her Anakin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Forced to watch  
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Battle of Heroes

The warehouse Anakin had chosen was actually a small storage unit connected to a manufacturing forge. The air was warm from the unseen forges. It was the first time since being confined in the underground prison that Obi-wan had felt warm, but something inside him was still cold. 

He could see Anakin standing on the elevated walkway across the warehouse, in the far corner where the forge connected with the warehouse. Obi-wan checked his mental shields and reminded himself what he was going to do. He would fight hard enough to give Anakin what he wanted, but ultimately he would let his former apprentice win. He would not fight out of fear, nor because of attempts to provoke him. For the protection of others—the clones and those faithful to the Republic—he would fight. For the Anakin that had been, he would forfeit. 

Obi-wan was surrounded by guards with heavy blaster rifles, but he didn’t speak to them. One of them spoke first. “I’m going to remove the collar. Lord Vader says that I am to remind you of what will happen if you make any move against us.” 

Obi-wan nodded and closed his eyes, preparing for the influx of the Force. He had been cut off and restored to the additional sense before. It was painful, as the energy seemed to reopen another part of the mind. It would overwhelm his senses until his mind could readjust. But it would be brief. 

The clone touched a small handheld device to the collar, and there was a small click. As soon as the narrow band was removed, Obi-wan was driven to his knees. 

The Force that entered him was still light, but it wept and seethed like the never-ending storms of Kamino. With so few others trained in the light remaining, the Force used him as a conduit for its grief, howling as it never had before. The maelstrom of mourning filled him with the screams that had echoed across the galaxy, the pain of betrayal and betraying, and released the sounds of blasters and sabers and misery. Then it revealed the storm the dark side of the force had punctured in its balance. In the center of it all was Darth Sidious, and his apprentice who had wielded the saber that cut the galaxy apart. Having shared its anguish, the Force gathered up the pieces and put Obi-wan back together, wrapping around him and assuring him all was not lost. 

Obi-wan came back to himself, not surprised to find himself on all fours, head bent low and relearning how to breathe. The Force was there, comforting and warm and hopeful, though its brightness seemed muted. 

Obi-wan pushed himself to his feet, struggling with all the Force had revealed. His own horror nearly distracted him from the warning in the Force, and the Jedi looked up in time to see a second figure on the elevated metal walkways, approaching Anakin. 

Padme. 

Obi-wan was running before he had fully thought it through, but the guards behind him did not shoot. Obi-wan force-jumped up onto the grate, desperately running towards Anakin and Padme. He could sense anger and darkness collecting around his old apprentice, escalating at an alarming rate. 

Anakin was turned toward his wife, who had grasped his arm. She looked up at him in shock. “I can’t believe this,” she was saying. “This isn’t you. I can’t follow this path, Anakin.” Obi-wan was still moving as the dark-clad man raised a hand to strike Padme. With a flying leap, Obi-wan tackled his old apprentice just as the blow fell. They toppled through the doorway, careening into the factory and over the rail, falling down through the smoke of the forges. 

Obi-wan climbed to his feet, gaining only a cursory inventory of what was around him-- Conveyor belts, welding lines, fiery forges, and various machines in differing stages of completion. He spotted his lightsaber on Anakin’s belt and summoned it to his hand. Anakin’s own saber was clenched in his hand as he straightened. Seeing Obi-wan, he ignited it.

Obi-wan did not yet activate his own weapon. He looked at Anakin as he never had before, seeing the fully yellow eyes but unwilling to believe what he had just witnessed. This man had struck Padme, something Anakin would never do. The truth of what he had just seen merged with the truths conveyed to him by the Force, and in an instant he knew.  
Anakin had fallen, his potential swallowed up to feed the dark side. Only Vader remained.

“I knew you wouldn’t understand what I had to do,” the young man said, circling slowly to Obi-wan’s left. “You were always so critical. The teachings of the Jedi blinded you.”  
Obi-wan ignited his saber and brought it up just in time to block an incoming strike as Vader flipped through the air toward him. They exchanged a quick flurry of blows, neither gaining the upper hand. Then they were moving, weaving in between the machinery, sabers clashing. Obi-wan sank deep into the Force, surrendering himself to instinct as Vader’s blade seemed to come from all directions. Relying on his preferred form, the Jedi Master deflected the attacks, waiting for Vader’s aggression to tire him. 

He backed onto a conveyor belt and allowed it to carry him backward as Vader followed at a run, saber raised. The blue light it emitted flickered red before clashing with Obi-wan’s blade. Their sabers locked as they strained against each other. “I will do what I must,” Obi-wan warned, pushing Vader back. Then he stepped off the moving platform to a level below. He landed lightly, knees bent, saber coming up as Vader dropped toward him. 

A machine carrying a metal part collided with Obi-wan’s shoulder, sending him reeling several paces backward. Balanced on the edge of the welding line, Obi-wan ducked Vader’s blade and cut towards his side. Vader spun out of the way, and Obi-wan was forced to leap aside as a welding arm swung toward him. Their sabers scored the surrounding machinery as the battle raged back and forth, faster than any sparring match they had ever done. 

Sweat trickled down Obi-wan’s face as the fight carried them closer to the forges. The steam stank with the bitter tang of scorching metal. Out of the corner of his eye Obi-wan caught sight of a carrier droid flying overhead, and he leaped toward it, catching it with one hand. Vader did the same with the droid in line behind it, swiping at Obi-wan as the droids continued their programmed path toward the melting vats. Obi-wan twisted to deflect the strike, following up with a rapid offensive combination as the ground dropped away beneath their feet, heat boiling up from the red forge below. 

Obi-wan let go of the flying droid, landing on the conveyor belt depositing metal into the melting vat’s great maw. He stepped onto the stable support of the belt and analyzed Vader’s approach. When Vader lunged, Obi-wan met him, each grabbing the other by the saber hand of the other, locking them in a battle of strength. Vader spun him around as the conveyor belt carried him, and Obi-wan suddenly pulled back his resistance, using Vader’s momentum against him. 

The Sith narrowly avoided falling into the vat, arm wheeling as he regained his balance. Obi-wan backed away, the hum of his lightsaber in front of his face. He continued the defensive retreat until they were no longer over the stifling metal vats. In the back of his mind he was aware of the Force warning him of watching eyes, but he didn’t dare dissociate himself for an instant from the fight. Vader had to be stopped, the Force had warned, or more deaths would come. 

Obi-wan leaped straight upward, flipping onto a welding line. Vader stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes, face shadowed. Obi-wan disentangled his memories of Anakin from the creature below, separating them into two separate entities. “It’s over,” he said, hoping but knowing that Vader would not back down. “You’ve lost.” 

“Not yet,” Vader said, throwing out a hand. The force-push slammed into Obi-wan and lifted him off his feet. He landed on his back, rolling to his side as his still-tender back complained. Vader landed not far away, and Obi-wan rolled to avoid the Sith’s plunging lightsaber. 

The force of the downward strike bit deep into the supporting structure, severing it. The welding line tilted with the ominous screech of metal, then tipped, spilling the two fighters into space. Obi-wan grabbed hold of a dangling cable and swung to a parallel line. From there he looked for Vader. He spotted the dark form and walked along the conveyor line to the durasteel walkway lining the walls. From there he waited for the Sith to come to him. 

Vader launched a loose part at Obi-wan’s face. Obi-wan cut it in half, then reversed the swing, redirecting it towards Vader. He combined light saber forms, catching Vader off guard. The Sith’s foot slipped off the edge of the walkway, his body colliding with the rail, and Obi-wan raised his lightsaber to cut the rail free and send Vader plummeting toward an unseen floor. 

He reacted to the threat behind him too late. 

The stun bolt took him in the back, his body half turned toward the probe droid. He collapsed, saber slipping from his fingers and deactivating. The drum of feet on the walk alerted him to the troopers jogging toward him. His body responded sluggishly, and he was only halfway up by the time they arrived. 

The helmeted troopers picked him up by the arms, supporting him while the Force-repellent collar was locked back around his neck. 

Obi-wan closed his eyes as they dragged him toward the nearest staircase. He was aware of Vader following the group, but his feelings seemed to have gone numb along with his lower body. 

He was taken directly to the Emperor’s throne room.


	10. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If whump isn't your thing, the only thing you really need from this chapter for the overall plot is the very end bit, after the asterisks.

The room was undergoing renovations, evidenced by the various welding equipment beside the doors. The dais had been replaced by a sublevel floor, accessible by a wide but short staircase. The Emperor’s throne was before a large circular window. The Emperor himself was unchanged, watching the group through his dark hood. 

The faulty retainment field was gone. In its place were two posts, recently welded to the floor. They seemed out of place with the sleek changes to the room, but Obi-wan knew what the unsightly things were for when the guards pulled him up the stairs and towards them. 

“You’ve been busy,” he said to the Emperor. “You even made a special place for me. You shouldn’t have gone to all the trouble.” 

The Emperor ignored the Jedi, turning his attention to Vader as he swept into the room. The troopers secured a leather cuff around one of Obi-wan’s wrists that was connected by a thick cable to the post, then shoved him to his knees. His other wrist was bound in the same manner, then the two cables tightened until Obi-wan’s arms were fully stretched out. The troopers marched away, snapping salutes to the Emperor and Vader. 

Vader stopped them before they reached the door. He spoke in a low voice, and one of the troopers nodded briskly. “Right away, sir.” 

Obi-wan relaxed as well as he could in such an awkward and vulnerable position. He watched Vader bow before Sidious, studying the set of the young Sith’s shoulders, trying to read him as Vader instead of Anakin. 

“So,” Sidious’ dry voice broke the sudden silence. “You failed.” 

“Not entirely, Master,” Vader said, looking up at Sidious. 

He likely would have said more, but Sidious rose to his feet, his stature seeming to grow several feet. The shadows seemed to thicken at the Sith Lord’s feet, a darkness radiating from him so powerful, the oxygen seemed to flee the room. “I warned that he was still a formidable opponent. I had to end the live feed and intervene. Now Kenobi is on his knees in front of you, Lord Vader, so what are you going to do?” 

“I am no longer a mere Jedi.” Vader rose to his full height, casting a venomous look at Obi-wan. “And I will prove it once again. As soon as the trooper returns.” 

“I did as you asked, Vader,” Obi-wan said. “Let the clones go.” 

“You are in no position to be making demands, Jedi,” Sidious said. The terrible darkness seemed to seep back inside him. The Sith descended the steps and walked with Vader towards the corner with the tools, showing his apprentice a small handheld holoscreen. Obi-wan couldn’t make out what it depicted, only that it was almost completely round. Was it the interrogation droid? Something else? 

Speaking of droids, there was one coming through the door. Obi-wan immediately recognized the gold plating of Anakin’s protocol droid, C-3PO. The well-intentioned droid handed Vader a long metal rod, his anxious mechanical voice carrying across the room. 

“Master Skywalker, one of your men requested I bring this to you. I can’t imagine why. I’m so glad I found you. I simply must ask—” 

Vader took the rod from the droid and instructed the droid to go to the warehouse. “Find Padme,” Vader ordered. The slightest softening of his voice was the only sign that even a shred of Anakin remained. 

The droid left quickly, fussing to himself, and a little of the worry plaguing Obi-wan’s mind was eased. Padme would receive some form of care. Vader turned and applied a welding heating cell to the end of the metal rod 3PO had given him, then turned back to the hologram Sidious held out to him. 

Obi-wan’s thoughts turned to the fight with Vader, wondering if he should have simply ended the young Sith with his saber instead of attempting a more secondary method. Reflecting on the moment in retrospect, he knew the truth. Though he had finally understood that Anakin was already dead, he couldn’t bring himself to deal the blow that would end the man wearing Anakin’s face. 

“Whatever you’re building, I think you need more workers.” Obi-wan lifted his head, speaking loudly so that the Sith on the far side of the room would hear. 

Sidious turned slowly, pocketing the holo. “What we are building is none of your concern, Master Jedi.” 

Obi-wan took a deep breath, calculating how flippant he could afford to be. He needed to show he wasn’t beaten, without provoking either of the Sith’s previous threats. “Even though you were a politician, I never knew you were such a talker,” he decided. “I see where Maul got it.” 

“Maul,” Sidious sneered. “My new apprentice will be far more powerful than him.” Even from across the room, Obi-wan could see the pleased smile the Sith bestowed upon Vader. The younger Sith picked up the metal rod, its end glowing cherry red, and carried it toward the stairs to the throne. 

No, towards Obi-wan. 

The Jedi’s heart rate spiked. Vader advanced with measured steps. As the Sith came up the steps, Obi-wan could see that the glowing end of the poker was fashioned into the Imperial symbol. His mouth went dry. 

Vader crouched in front of him, the iron sizzling the air in front of the Jedi’s face. Obi-wan’s wrists twisted in the leather restraints, the cables keeping his arms stretched to either side. “You got your fight,” he said, unable to look away from the hot metal. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“I want to see you suffer,” Vader said, standing and reaching for a handful of Obi-wan’s hair. Obi-wan tipped his head away from the gloved fingers, but they snagged him anyway and yanked his head sharply to one side, exposing the left side of Obi-wan’s neck. The leather chafed his wrists as Obi-wan frantically struggled, his breathing coming fast and shallow. The pain from his scalp was nothing compared to the threat of the red-hot brand held inches from his skin. 

“You could at least find a symbol that suits me.” It was only through force of will that Obi-wan was able to get the words out.

“This symbol marks the property of the Emperor,” Vader said, tightening his grip on the Jedi’s auburn hair. “Now all that look at you will know that you are under the control of the Empire.” And he pressed the brand against Obi-wan’s neck. 

Agony, white and sudden, radiated from the skin and muscle near his ear, so intense it devoured everything else. Obi-wan screamed, jerking ineffectively. He didn’t know exactly how long it was before Vader removed the brand from his skin and let go of his hair. Seconds. Minutes. It didn’t seem to matter. Air came in heaving gasps, and reflexive tears streamed down his face. 

Vader laid the brand iron aside and stood for a moment watching Obi-wan struggle to come to terms with what had just happened. 

“If he dies, apprentice, it will be on your head,” Sidious reminded the younger Sith. 

“He will receive medical care,” Vader said dismissively. “Just not right away.” The blurry black form turned away from Obi-wan. “First, tell me about Mandalore. There was a disturbance there before the Jedi were terminated. A clone force was sent to assist.” 

Obi-wan didn’t dare move. His could feel the rapid pulse from the angry area on the side of is neck, but surprisingly little pain. He had the vague sense that wasn’t a good thing. He stared at the floor, trying to focus on the present and understand what the Sith were discussing, but the sound seemed to fade in and out. 

“…long history of resistance to governing authority. If Kryze does not…. Imperial occupation in four days. Comman….” 

The room was much too bright, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air. Obi-wan sagged against the cables holding him, too shocked to pay attention anymore. His eyes closed, head slowly tipping forward as his consciousness fractured around him. 

********

The hooded figure stood apart from the others, eyes fixed on the luminous broadcasts behind the counter. His drink was forgotten, a mere excuse to confirm what he had heard whispered in the alleys. 

The cantina’s occupants talked in hushed voices, evaluating the fight and questioning why the feed had been cut just as the Jedi had seemed to gain the upper hand, only to be knocked backward by the Imperial enforcer that no one could quite bring themselves to acknowledge. Some argued about which had won the fight. He ignored them all. He knew what it all really meant. Sidious had succeeded in turning Skywalker.

Maul’s lip curled. And now the master that had abandoned him was keeping his most hated enemy prisoner. 

How convenient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch.   
> Next chapter is going to have some very important events. Thanks for reading!


	11. The Stakes are Raised

His ears were ringing. 

No, Obi-wan realized as he woke, he was surrounded by sounds of distress. He peeled his eyes open only to blink at the amount of white light around him. After a few seconds, things felt clearer and he turned his head. 

“Gah.” Pain slammed through him, joining the clamor of beeping equipment and activity coming from the other side of the room. Memory of hot metal and the smell of his own burning flesh scalded the last traces of unconsciousness away. He went to lift a hand to probe the wound, only to find his arms were strapped down. 

Someone must have heard the small sound he made. A clone medic he didn’t know came to the side of the bed and looked down at him. Obi-wan looked into the dark brown eyes and wondered what the clone was thinking at that moment. 

“There’s a partial deep burn below and just offset with your ear. There will be scarring. We applied a spray to prevent infection.” The medic glanced towards a medical droid rolling toward him. “You’re lucky we even did that much, traitor.” He walked away. 

Obi-wan huffed a laugh. Lucky. Yes, that was him. 

A woman’s cry brought his attention to the privacy chamber on the other side of the room. Wincing at the pain the motion brought him, Obi-wan focused on the medical droid disappearing behind the screen just as a second muffled scream came from within. 

Padme. 

Obi-wan’s brows furrowed in concern. He tried to sit up, but the restraints wouldn’t let him. Had Vader hurt her badly? He needed to— Another cry came from across the room. This time it was an infant’s cry. 

Obi-wan lay back on the cot. Oh. OH. He couldn’t seem to decide on an emotion. Hope that Padme and the newborn were alright. Joy for a new life in the world. Grief, that Anakin would never see his child as a father should. Apprehension that Padme was even more vulnerable and a newborn child was in the clutches of the Sith. 

Make that two children, he realized, as another wail accompanied the first. Twins. 

An anxious beeping noise came from somewhere just out of Obi-wan’s sight. A moment later a familiar astromech rolled into view, its round top swiveling slowly between Obi-wan and the privately sectioned area of the medbay. 

“R2,” Obi-wan whispered. “What are you doing here?” 

The little droid whistled sadly. 

“I know,” Obi-wan replied, hoping he understood the droid correctly. “I’ve seen him.” His throat tightened and he swallowed past the grief. “We will do what we can to make things right,” he reassured. R2 chirped agreement. 

Obi-wan glance over at the medics. There were three of them, standing together near the opening to the privacy chamber, watching as another med droid went by. All three looked identically perplexed and out of their depth. “Let the droids handle it,” one of them said. “We’re not trained for this.” 

“Agreed. Let’s clear the room.” The three made a hasty exit, not bothering to glance Obi-wan’s way. 

Once they were gone, Obi-wan lifted one arm to the end of its tether. “R2, do you think you could…?” 

The droid made short work of it. Obi-wan swung his feet off the bed and carefully removed the fluid drip from his arm. He waited until the med droids were no longer bustling in and out of the privacy chamber before he walked unsteadily to the sectioned off area. He knocked hesitantly on the frame, uncertain. 

A droid pulled back the curtain, and he heard Padme’s voice from within. “Who is it?” 

She sounded exhausted and timid. Obi-wan shifted on his feet, thinking it would be better to come back later, but he wasn’t sure when –or even if—he would get another chance. “It’s Obi-wan,” he answered softly. 

“Let him in,” Padme said, and the droid rolled aside to let Obi-wan by. 

Padme was propped up on the bed, holding a small bundle of blankets in each arm. Her face was pale and her hair was dark with sweat. She took a closer look at Obi-wan as the Jedi leaned against the frame. 

“What happened?” she exclaimed, alarmed by the sight of the burned patch on the Jedi’s neck. 

Obi-wan managed a smile. “Just an… accident. I’m fine.” He looked at the former Senator, seeing a bruise forming on her fair cheekbone. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.

“No,” Padme admitted, lip trembling. “But yes. I will be.” She looked down at the bundles in her arms, then looked up at Obi-wan. “Would you like to meet them?” 

Obi-wan stepped forward, reaching out for the tiny being Padme angled toward him. The baby was small, with fine dark hair on the tiny head. Awed, Obi-wan gently pulled the blanket away from the little face. The tip of his finger was captured by the baby’s tiny fist. 

“That’s Leia,” Padme told him. “And this is Luke.” 

“They’re wonderful,” he told her. But his heart filled with sorrow. It should be Anakin standing here. 

As if reading his thoughts, a tear slipped from Padme’s eye. “I don’t know him anymore,” she admitted. “Anakin. He’s… He killed….” She trailed off helplessly.   
“I know,” Obi-wan said heavily. 

“Bail contacted me,” Padme said, cradling Luke. “He told me he had some good news and would be back to Coruscant soon. Should be any time now.” She looked up at Obi-wan, searching his bright blue eyes that had always seemed so wise. “But I’m still afraid.” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t been myself. I almost… I planned to…” She changed track, and Obi-wan’s heart twisted as he guessed what she had been about to say. “But I can’t. Not until I know my children are safe.” 

Obi-wan looked down at baby Leia. An idea was forming, but he hesitated to say anything. It was desperate, unconventional, and would be asking things of Padme that no one had the right to. 

“Obi-wan? What is it?” 

“There may be a way to get them out,” he said carefully. “But only them.” He looked at her, his resolve faltering. “One at a time.” He hated himself for the decision he was placing before the new mother. “Bail and his wife have wanted a child of their own. No one will think anything of it if they adopt.” 

Padme’s face went even whiter. Her eyes squeezed shut as she drew a shuddering breath. Obi-wan waited, feeling wretched, but knowing that the infants would not be safe here. Not with the Sith. And Padme was as much a prisoner as he was. 

Tears slipped soundlessly down Padme’s cheeks as she opened her eyes and nodded. “I trust you,” she whispered. “Do whatever you have to do, to keep them safe.” 

Obi-wan nodded, unable to speak for a moment. He stepped to the door and pushed aside the opening for R2. He knelt in front of the astromech droid, holding the baby in one arm. “How much room have you got in that handy little compartment, R2?” he asked. The droid chirred, then whooshed open a section of its front. 

Obi-wan looked at the sleeping infant in his arms and tucked the blanket around the little body. “This is one of the most precious things in the galaxy, R2,” he said, tenderly placing Leia inside the astromech’s compartment, pillowing the blanket to support her head. “Take her to Senator Organa’s ship with this message.” He recorded a brief explanation for Bail, then closed the compartment around the snug infant. “Be careful, R2,” he pleaded. “No sudden movements. No one can know she is there or what you are really doing.” The little droid beeped and slowly rolled out. 

“May the Force be with you,” Obi-wan said brokenly. He pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat down next to Padme, ignoring the ache from his body and neck. He sat with head bowed, being with Padme as she wept. 

Vader arrived minutes later. He took in Obi-wan’s presence and Padme’s red eyes, and his fury wrapped around the Jedi like an invisible hand. Obi-wan was lifted into the air and slammed onto his back, the dark side of the force pressing him into the floor. He heard Padme’s exclamation, heard baby Luke screaming. Vader stood over him, hand outstretched, and all Obi-wan could think was that he was glad it was him, not Padme or the baby. 

“What did you say to her?” the Sith shouted. He seemed to wrestle with his anger, hand lowering. “If you did anything, you will regret it, Obi-wan.” 

Vader stepped over the Jedi, who rolled over onto his side, groaning. He pulled himself up, ready to protect, but Vader was kneeling at Padme’s side, staring as Padme tried to soothe her son. The young Sith’s posture softened, his eyes losing some of the yellow as Anakin’s smile tugged at his mouth. 

Obi-wan sensed someone behind him and painfully turned so he could look. 

Sidious stood where he could just see inside, to where his apprentice asked if Padme was alright. The Sith Lord’s eyes were shadowed by the cowl of his cloak, but his mouth was set in an ugly line. His withered hands clenched into fists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, R2-D2 has a compartment big enough to fit a baby. Just roll with it.   
> Thank you to all those that have commented and left kudos! Feedback is always appreciated.


	12. Storms on the Horizon

They left him in the Emperor’s throne room overnight. Vader had decided that if Ob-wan was well enough to escape the restraints, the Jedi no longer needed to be in the Medbay. He’d asked two guards to help march Obi-wan to the newly renamed Imperial Palace and into the Emperor’s throne room. He’d stood impatiently while they tied Obi-wan’s arms behind his back and secured another line to one of the built-in rings on the poles. 

“Let Cody and the others go,” Obi-wan had called to the Sith’s retreating back. 

The Sith had stopped. “Why? It seems to be the only way to keep you in line.” 

“And what would the other clones do if they found out you’re keeping some of their brothers locked away in the dungeons?”

The Sith had whirled around, glaring at Obi-wan. “Only traitors are in the dungeons,” he said harshly. He had advanced on Obi-wan. After a quick glance around, he had torn a strip of cloth from the end of his cloak. He shoved the cloth between Obi-wan’s teeth and knotted it behind the Jedi’s head. “Won’t keep you silent,” the Sith said, standing, “but.” 

“Ih’ll 'low ‘e ‘own,” Obi-wan had finished. Vader had left without another word, leaving Obi-wan to himself. He’d managed to sleep a few hours braced against the pole. He’d slept in worst positions—and places-- during the war. 

But it was now early morning, and he had woken with the feeling that he was no longer alone. The room was still dark, with the faintest orange glow from the Coruscanti streets casting a web pattern on the floor. He lifted his head slowly, biting down on the gag as the burned area protested. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” said a voice from one of the shadows below the steps. 

The Jedi waited patiently while a thin figure slipped up the steps. She was fairly young, with short hair. Her clothing was practical, with simple ornamentation. She knelt beside the Jedi, tentatively reaching to untie the gag. 

Obi-wan worked some moisture into his mouth. “Thanks,” he whispered gratefully. 

“I am a Senator from Chandrila,” the visitor said quietly. “We’ve consulted briefly before about—” the woman’s whisper cut off as she saw the burn on Obi-wan’s neck. “Oh!”

“Senator Mon Mothma,” Obi-wan whispered warmly, trying to put her more at ease. “Yes, I remember. With a question about the good Chancellor’s emergency powers.” 

She nodded. “We didn’t do enough. But Organa sent me an encrypted message. He’s been contacting some of us that are like-minded about the new Empire. Some of us will still be maintaining appearances in the new Imperial Senate. I believe there are a lot more out there that would rise in rebellion if we can organize it.” 

Obi-wan agreed. “It will take time,” he observed regretfully. “The Emperor is rapidly manufacturing means of enforcement. He is determined to show a strong hand. We would need ships, pilots, weapons. Supplies. Means of communication and gathering information.” 

Mon Mothma nodded again, speaking more quickly. “I only have a few minutes if I want to slip between the patrols. But I came to tell you, Bail had news. He wanted you to know…. Yoda is alive.” 

Obi-wan’s eyes widened. Master Yoda! Surely he would have some insight on what to do. If anyone were a match against Sidious, it would be the wise old grandmaster. 

“Thank you,” Obi-wan breathed. The Senator nodded and began to get up, so he spoke quickly. “How long has it been since the fight?” He wasn’t sure how much time he had lost while in the medbay. 

“This will be the second day.” 

“If you can, get a message to Mandalore. The Empire is planning a focused attack and blockades in two more days, unless Mandalore submits to the Emperor’s rule.” 

“I’ll find a way,” Mon Mothma promised. She hesitated. “I have to…” She gestured to the discarded cloth used as a gag. “They can’t know I was here.” 

Obi-wan nodded, smiling faintly. “One last thing, then. Senator Amidala and her child are in danger from the Emperor himself. We need to extract them as soon as possible.”

“Padme?” the woman asked, alarm evident in her voice. The two occupied similar circles, Obi-wan remembered. “Of course. Perhaps Yoda could help.” 

“Perhaps. The sooner the better.” 

Mon Mothma nodded, then retied the gag. Obi-wan watched her glide away and slip through the door, surprisingly adept at being stealthy. The Jedi Master’s head tipped forward. He wasn’t the last Jedi. Yoda was alive. And the unexpected visit reassured him that there were others willing to resist the Sith Emperor. 

He wasn’t alone. 

**********

Maul had never liked Coruscant. He had always had to hide when he was summoned here, though its people were so used to self-important politicians and the never-ending stream of motion that they never would have looked twice at him. But even with the Jedi now gone, the Sith kept his presence carefully shielded. He had no desire to be caught unawares and confined by Sidious again. 

He brooded as he watched Sidious’ palace. He had not seen the Sith Lord, but he knew Kenobi was being kept there. He wanted to kill his former master, but Kenobi… Kenobi deserved more. He had stolen Maul’s destiny. He had caused Maul’s fall from power, from greatness. The Jedi would suffer. What more could he do to the man? He had already killed the Jedi’s “friend,” the Duchess the Jedi had feelings for. The only other person that might be a possible pressure point was Skywalker, and seeing as he was now a Sith apprentice, that allegiance would be sorely tested. 

Out of the corner of his eye Maul caught movement where it had no business to be. He carefully quested outward, using the Force as an extra sense, and found another presence on one of the surrounding rooftops. The zabrack growled deep in his throat. It was a presence he had encountered recently. 

Tano. 

What was SHE doing here? He had been careful. There was no way she could know he had come here. So… she was here for Skywalker. Or, perhaps, Kenobi. 

He may have to make his move sooner than he had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most exciting update, but necessary for some setup. At least Obi-wan gets a small moment of comfort while the Rebel Alliance is starting to gear up. You know, before more pain and complicated situations. 
> 
> Summary of what all is going on right now:   
> -Obi-wan is simultaneously being an inside informant and helping organize the Rebels while being a prisoner/tortured/warning to any resisting the New Order.   
> -Cody and some other clones are still in the prison, being used to manipulate Obi-wan.   
> -Padme and baby Luke are still in the clutches of the Sith, including an increasingly unstable Vader. Leia safely made it to the Organas.   
> -Sidious wants to get rid of Padme and Luke. A rescue attempt is being planned to get them away before this happens.   
> -Maul is plotting how to get to Obi-wan.


	13. Familiar Faces

Obi-wan hadn’t expected to see Padme again so soon. He was being marched down the hallway, hands cuffed and behind his head. 

He had been bewildered when Vader had appeared that morning, telling him to clean up and be ready to see Padme. The Sith had shown Obi-wan a holo transmitter with miniature versions of the clones, shackled together and under klatooinian guard. “Any attempts to escape and they will be punished,” he had threatened. 

Obi-wan had followed instructions, washing, changing into clean tunics, and allowing his beard to be trimmed. When Vader had returned, he had inspected Obi-wan and nodded once. “It’ll do.” He handed a guard a pair of stun cuffs and spoke while they were being secured around the Jedi’s wrists. “My wife has requested that you answer some questions about Force-sensitive children. I am allowing it for her sake because I have no experience in this. But if you say or do ANYTHING to upset her, you know what will happen. And I will make sure you are there to watch.” Vader had left to answer a summons from his master, leaving Obi-wan under heavy escort. 

The walking eased the ache that had set into his knees and cramped his legs. Obi-wan smiled at Padme’s ingenuity in getting a meeting. He would tell her to be ready to leave, and—

He wasn’t prepared when the guard next to him grabbed his elbow and hauled him sideways. Evidently receiving communication from the units in their buckets, the troopers bundled him into a side room and barricaded the door. Two of the guards kept their weapons trained on Obi-wan while the rest of them covered the doorway.   
A distant rumble reached them. Obi-wan knew the sound of an explosion; he’d been on a war front for three years. He turned his head incrementally, eyeing the troopers on either side of him. A second blast sounded, louder than the first. 

At the same instant, Obi-wan swung around, stepping in close to one of the troopers and smashing his elbow into the side of the helmet, Continuing the movement, he brought his cuffed hands from behind his head, looping them around the trooper’s neck and getting behind him. Hefting the man against him, Obi-wan swung the man around. The trooper’s feet took out the two guards in front kneeling to cover the door. Grunting, Obi-wan completed the 360-degree spin and let go of the guard. He collided with the legs of the remaining trooper, and they both crashed to the ground. 

Obi-wan managed to get the door open and slipped through just as the troopers were getting their bearings. A blaster bolt zinged past his shoulder. He ran as fast as he could with his hands cuffed, heading toward the explosions, taking corners at top speed. 

He was going so fast he almost missed the flash of color through one of the doorways. A pattern of blue and white, like… He skid to a stop, changing directions and entering the room just as the pursuing troopers came around a corner. 

“Incoming,” Obi-wan warned, side-stepping and spinning on his heel. The troopers approached the door at an angle, but they weren’t prepared for the group inside. Two were taken out by stun blasts, and the other two were force-pushed into the wall. They slid down, unconscious, joining a few other unconscious brothers scattered around the floor.   
Obi-wan looked around. 

A clone trooper in familiar blue-and-white armor holstered the stun pistols. Padme lowered herself back into a hoverchair, a troubled look creasing her eyebrows as she looked at the unconscious troopers. Mixed emotions caused words to choke in Obi-wan’s throat as he looked at the young Togruta in front of him.

Obi-wan found he couldn’t speak. He had expected to find Master Yoda, or perhaps some loyalists from Naboo. Outwardly she looked the same as when he had seen her before the Chancellor’s “rescue,” but there was something in her eyes. Something older. Wiser. Sadder.

“Obi-wan,” she greeted. “I thought we’d have to go find you.” 

“Ahsoka,” Obi-wan said, searching her face as she activated her light saber and touched it to the cuffs on his wrists. “You’re alive. I thought….” He trailed off, unable to put everything into words. When she was a padawan, the two had grown quite close. But the circumstances of the past few times they had seen each other had caused tension between them that he wasn’t sure how to breach. 

“It’s a long story,” Ahsoka said, using the Force to remove the suppressant collar. “And one we don’t have time for at the moment.”

Obi-wan winced as his cells welcomed the energy of the Force, waiting for the shattering barrage, but the discomfort was far less than it had been prior to his fight with Vader. When he opened his eyes again, Ahsoka was watching him. Her gaze lingered on the livid mark on his neck, but before either could say anything a third blast vibrated through the floor.

“They’re getting closer, commander,” Rex said. “We’d better go.” 

“I’m not going without Luke!” Padme said. There was a note of panic in her voice, overriding her normally cool composure. 

“Where is he?” 

“I don’t know, he was gone when I woke up. I have to find him!” Padme made to get out of the chair, but Ahsoka gently pushed her back. 

“We’ll find him” Obi-wan promised. He looked at the Togruta. “Ahsoka, get her out of here. Rex and I will find the child.” 

“I’ll help,” Padme insisted. A wild look was in her eye. Rex took one look and stepped forward, hand dipping into the pouch on his belt. Obi-wan sensed the clone’s intention and lifted a hand, delving into the Force. Before Rex could uncap the syringe, Obi-wan had sent a powerful sleep suggestion to Padme’s mind. 

She fought it, eyelids drooping, before she inevitably slumped back in sleep. Rex looked startled for a moment, then nodded to Obi-wan. “Quick, commander, while the guards are busy with the others.” 

“What others?” Obi-wan asked. A subtle hope for more surviving Jedi sparked the question.

“Whoever's causing the explosions,” Ahsoka said, pushing Padme’s chair out the door. 

Apprehension gnawed away the hope. “They’re not with you?” he clarified. He retrieved a blaster from one of the fallen troopers before following the Togruta out.   
“No,” Ahsoka answered over her shoulder. “We don’t know who they are.” 

“Right.” Obi-wan made sure the blaster was set to ‘stun,’ then motioned to Rex. “Let’s go.” He set off in a slow jog, thinking quickly. Vader had said Padme was asking about Force-sensitive children, so perhaps…. The idea took hold, and he racked his brains to remember the somewhat hazy route from the medbay. 

“It’s good to see you, Rex,” the Jedi said, poking his head around a corner. He pulled it back as a blaster bolt scarred the wall. Obi-wan breathed deeply, reveling at the renewed connection to his surroundings. Spinning around the corner, he dropped to one knee and released three quick shots, dropping the clones. 

“You too, General,” Rex responded, cleanly hitting the fourth in the chest plate. 

The two advanced, falling into the rhythm of two seasoned soldiers that trusted each other. “I don’t know what happened to them, Rex,” Obi-wan admitted as he stepped over a stunned trooper. 

Rex swiveled, taking out a guard that had appeared behind them. “It’s not their fault, General,” the clone said grimly. He explained about the inhibitor chips, and how it had taken over his decisions. “It’s always been there,” Rex concluded. “In each and every member of the GAR.” 

Obi-wan sucked in a breath. “How did we not know?” he whispered, aghast. “I don’t recall ever seeing anything in medical scans. How did we not see this coming?” 

“They were dormant,” Rex explained, “until the Chancellor activated them.” He peered around the next corner, then motioned Obi-wan forward. “Commander Tano managed to remove mine.” 

Obi-wan shook his head. It explained so much, but he couldn’t take the time to consider it right now. They had to get Luke. “I’m sorry, Captain,” he apologized quietly. Rex glanced at him, then nodded once. 

Obi-wan recognized the doors to the medbay and put on a burst of speed. Peering through the thick glass window, he saw a nurse droid holding a familiar blanket while a medic stood nearby. A red light blinked over the door, but Obi-wan tried the keypad anyway. When that failed, he reached out with the Force, worming into the door’s inner workings. He found the deactivation system and nudged it. 

Instantly, a bright swell of cold energy lashed back at him, shoving the light back and slamming against the Jedi with the force of a speeder train. Obi-wan was thrown backward into the wall, stars bursting in his vision. 

He pushed himself up, frowning heavily. Within the medbay, the medic was speaking into a commlink, his eyes boring into Obi-wan. 

“Alright, sir?” Rex asked. He leveled his blaster and shot at the door, hoping to circumvent the system. The door remained stubbornly shut, despite the blackened smoking metal his shots created. 

“They must have locked down when the explosions started,” Obi-wan observed. “The system is reinforced with some kind of Sith force. If we had more time I might be able to work around it, but…” 

Rex’s commlink beeped and he keyed it so Obi-wan could hear as well. “We’re out,” Ahsoka reported. “We’re at the rendezvous point. How close are you? The others are progressing through the building. I’ve seen them before. Master Obi-wan, it’s—"

The sound of shooting echoed down the halls, followed by the lethal explosion of a detonator. Rex had seen the medic’s call as well, and he fired twice more, this time at the glass. The reinforced structure ricocheted the blast, redirecting it, and Rex dodged. “We’re out of time!” he snarled as a pained scream reached them. 

“You’ve got to get out of there, now!” Ahsoka shouted through the link. 

“Blast!” Obi-wan whirled away, running a hand through his hair. He quickly turned back to lean against the glass, staring at the innocent child on the other side. 

There were more troopers coming. Obi-wan leaned his forehead against the cool glass. “Padme will never forgive me,” he said heavily. They weren’t going to get Padme’s child out, not this time. He had failed. Again, he was too slow, not strong enough, not good enough. 

Obi-wan knew he wouldn’t be leaving. “Go,” he said firmly.

“Sir?” Rex glared at him. 

Obi-wan squared his shoulders, rounding on the loyal clone captain. “I’m staying. I’ll protect the child as best I can. I’ll find another way to get him out. Tell Padme… tell her I’ll get her child for her or die trying.” 

Rex looked dumbfounded. He stared at Obi-wan, not even flinching as the Jedi fired a quick stun bolt past him to take out the trooper just rounding the corner. “There’s got to be another way,” the clone argued. 

More troopers were coming. He could sense their single-minded determination. Obi-wan tried to smile. “As much as I enjoy your company, Rex, I don’t want you trapped here with me. Go!” He put three years’ worth of experience giving military orders into his voice, hoping to galvanize the soldier into action. 

Rex knew what he was doing. He gave Obi-wan the same look he had given when Anakin had presented another reckless scheme. 

“Please, Rex,” Obi-wan said. The fierceness drained from him, replaced with a desperate weariness. “Ahsoka’s going to need help.”

The blonde clone nodded wordlessly and replaced his helmet. He took off down the hall, and Obi-wan turned, firing at the clones that rounded the corner in response to the medic’s call for backup. He felt numb. Things were happening so fast. 

Listening to the Force, he flipped through the air to avoid several blaster shots. Upon landing he lifted the blaster, finger tightening on the weapon’s trigger. An explosion shook the floor at the same time fire and smoke spewed from around the corner, wiping out the clones before he could shoot. 

Obi-wan tensed, biting his lip against the reality of more deaths. Despite the reminiscent heat there was a coldness there, just out of sight, drawing closer. The force presence was shielded, but brim with destructive glee and carefully-nurtured hatred. 

“No.” Obi-wan took two steps backward as the realization settled around him like a wet cloak. It couldn’t possibly be…

A familiar red and black figure stalked around the corner, tendrils of smoke curling around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may be slower for a little bit, sorry!


	14. Nothing More You Can Take From Me

“Kenobi.” Maul’s tawny eyes gleamed. The zabrack bared his teeth in a self-satisfied grin. 

“Hello there.” Obi-wan forced a jaunty smile. “Did you know I was here, or is it just your lucky day?” 

Maul laughed, bouncing his saber hilt once in his palm before igniting it. “The whole galaxy knows you are here, Kenobi.” The zabrack slunk forward. 

“Then I can hardly congratulate you for finding me,” Obi-wan reasoned lightly. “Though I heard you brought some friends.” He didn’t dare back too far down the corridor and risk Maul discovering Luke’s existence. He was keenly aware of the blaster’s textured grip in his hand instead of the familiar handle of his light saber.

Maul was still coming, holding his double saber horizontally in front of him so there was very little space between the ends and the wall. The Sith smirked as he eyed the blaster in Obi-wan’s hands. “Lost something, master Jedi?” 

“Lost?” Obi-wan said, lifting the blaster. “I happen to know exactly where my light saber is. It just doesn’t happen to be in my possession at the moment.” 

Maul easily deflected the shot. He was almost within striking distance of Obi-wan. “Then this will be far too easy,” he gloated. 

Obi-wan shot again, then followed up with a Force-push that sent Maul sliding backward, his long saber melting a furrow in the wall. When he stood up straight, the zabrack’s fixed snarl was in place. He attacked, swinging the thrumming saber in a circular arc. Obi-wan ducked, pushing against Maul with the force and trying to circle around behind him. The blaster spat a bolt of energy at the Sith, then was tugged from Obi-wan’s hand. 

“I never liked those much anyway,” Obi-wan quipped. He knew he was in serious trouble. There were very few options, none of them good ones.

Maul deactivated one side of his double saber, leveling the remaining end at Obi-wan. “A rather disappointing performance, Kenobi. How you were considered a competent Jedi is beyond me.” 

“Well, it’s been a rough day,” Obi-wan admitted. Summoning his energy, he bolted, intent on luring Maul away from the medbay. He went directly for the forlorn group of clone bodies left behind by Maul’s detonation blast, his eye on a blaster. 

He heard a whir and a metallic scrape behind him as Maul landed. Obi-wan twisted mid-stride, the hilt of Maul’s saber narrowly missing his head. The heat from the red plasma blade caressed his cheek and poked at the healing brand on his neck. Obi-wan flinched away, sprawling on his side. Maul drove his foot into the Jedi’s stomach and Obi-wan coughed, curling in on himself. 

The Sith placed a metal foot on Obi-wan’s sternum, rolling the Jedi onto his back and pressing him into the floor. Obi-wan groaned as the zabrack bent down, leaning his full weight on Obi-wan’s sternum. Unable to draw a full breath, Obi-wan’s hands came up to push against the weight. He froze as Maul flicked the end of the saber beneath the Jedi’s chin. 

“Is that all?” the zabrack chuckled. “So weak and tired already.” The Sith braced one arm on his knee. “That is quite the mark on your neck, Kenobi,” Maul drawled. “A parting gift from a friend, no doubt. Not to worry, I have one for you as well.” 

Obi-wan lifted a hand, gathering the Force for one last push, but he was too late. Maul summoned the discarded blaster and fired a stun blast directly into the Jedi’s chest. Obi-wan gasped, his body going limp and his vision flickering to black. The last thing he saw was Maul reaching for him. 

When he woke up, he was stretched out on a hard floor. His comforting connection to the force was gone again. His heart sank at the realization. Head pounding, Obi-wan pushed himself up on his elbows. As he did, he became aware of a collar around his neck. It was thicker than the previous one, and tight enough to push against his adam’s apple when he swallowed. A length of chain ran from the collar to Maul’s fist. 

The Sith stood at window overlooking Coruscant. Obi-wan’s eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings and the Shadow Collective members at the doors. Mostly Black Sun, he realized, eyes narrowing. 

Maul turned from the window, looking down at Obi-wan. “Welcome home, Master Jedi,” he said. 

Obi-wan didn’t respond. He’d known he was in the Jedi Temple as soon as he opened his eyes. He pushed himself up, getting to his feet just as Maul started walking. The Sith walked in a wide circle around the Jedi, causing the collar to slide around Obi-wan’s neck. A burning pain erupted from the healing burn as the collar chafed it. Obi-wan clapped a hand to his neck, turning to follow Maul’s path. 

“Come, I have something to show you,” Maul instructed, tugging on the chain. Obi-wan’s breath hitched at the sudden pull and he stumbled forward. 

“It’s more polite to ask.” Obi-wan swallowed.

“Perhaps. But I found something in the security footage I think you need to see.” 

“There’s nothing more you can take from me,” Obi-wan said. He was pulled the final few steps to where Maul had stopped. 

“That remains to be seen,” the zabrack said silkily. The Sith smirked, his hand catching the chain not far from Obi-wan’s neck and dragging it downward. Obi-wan choked, knees bending to relieve the pressure. He glared up at Maul as the Sith reached and activated the security footage. A wavering blue holo appeared, showing several young initiates and a dark robed figure with a lightsaber in his hand. 

Obi-wan turned away from the image, sickness churning in his gut. Maul hooked a finger beneath the collar and dragged Obi-wan forward until he couldn’t help but look at the image. Maul kept tight hold of the collar even when Obi-wan tried to pry his fingers from it, yanking it when the Jedi fought against him. Obi-wan choked at the pressure, the tightness making him aware of every breath. The sickness intensified. 

“No,” Obi-wan panted. He knew that Anakin was gone. But he’d never expected to have to watch his apprentice die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: choked


	15. Promises

Ahsoka wrapped her arms around herself. She watched the white streaks of light passing through the window, ignoring the faint hum of the hyperdrive. Padme was asleep in one of the back rooms after hours of fretting and coming to terms with the fact that her baby was not with her. Ahsoka had set the cruiser on autopilot while in hyperspace, but she lingered over the controls, thinking.

Rex walked up behind her. It was so familiar, with the lighting and the feeling of apprehension, she could not help the shiver that tickled her spine. She gripped her arms to stop the trembling. 

“How are you doing, commander?” the clone asked. He sat in the copilot seat, swiveling it so as to look at her better. 

Ahsoka managed a wan smile. “As well as I can be, Rex. But I don’t know where to go from here. After we get Padme to this… Baluria… I don’t know what to do. I can’t just leave Anakin and Obi-wan like this.” 

Rex nodded. “General Kenobi won’t have it good in there. Not once they find out Padme is gone.” The clone leaned back. “The others that were attacking the building. Who were they?” 

“Black Sun,” Ahsoka explained. “A crime syndicate from the Outer Rim known for their secrecy. Master Chun taught us that sometimes the people working for them don’t even know who they really work for. Master Obi-wan found out they were part of the group Maul put together on Mandalore.” 

“Him again.” It was an empty-sounding snarl. Rex looked away from her. He too looked out at the window at the passing streaks of color and light.

Ahsoka glanced sidelong at him. “Not long ago, I never would have thought the galaxy could come to this.”

Rex nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. She saw anger there, the kind born of grief. “Was it ever real?” he asked. “We thought we were fighting for the Republic. For the good side. We never thought life without war would be like this.” 

Sorrow cut through Ahsoka, slicing to the core. “It’s not supposed to be like this, Rex,” she said softly. “I think… the war isn’t really over. The battlefield has just changed.” 

Rex looked down to where his fists curled in his lap. “I don’t know how to fight this way,” he admitted. “The only army to fight is made up of—” his voice broke. He looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, commander.”

Ahsoka briefly laid a hand on his arm. “It’s ok, Rex. I understand.” And she did, to some degree. She too had helped bury the dead. She too had seen the surviving clones fighting for the Empire. 

“It’s not their fault. It’s Sidious. After I left the Order, I blamed the Jedi. I saw the hurt and the anger in the galaxy, and I saw that the duty of being peacekeepers had been neglected. Crime was getting worse while we fought with the Separatists. People were hurt and scared, and it was making them bitter against the Jedi. I was too.” She sighed. “Last time I saw Obi-wan and Anakin, I was still angry. I thought they were wrong. Now I know the Jedi did care. But we were too close to the war. We got in too deep. It was too late to pull back. It wasn't just politics. The Sith –Darth Sidious—was clouding everything with the dark side. When I faced Maul on Mandalore, I felt it. It clouds your thoughts and makes it feel like there is only one way.” The Council reported regularly to the hidden Sith, and over time couldn’t see. She shuddered, knowing that she herself had been exposed to the corruptive influence without knowing it. She had been blinded, too, even when she thought she could finally see. 

They sat in silence for a time, remembering. 

Finally, Rex stirred. “We can’t fight as just the two of us. Not against him.”

“We’ll find others,” Ahsoka said confidently. “After all, Senator Organa said there were several on this planet we are going to.” She thought uneasily of Padme, sleeping off the exhaustion from emotional damage. “And I wouldn’t want to be between Senator Amidala and her baby. We’ll get them out. All three. The baby, Obi-wan, and Anakin.” 

She spoke it like a promise. 

************

Obi-wan struggled to stay standing. His legs felt weak from the beating. They were in one of the training rooms of the temple. The leash on Obi-wan’s collar was clipped to the ring normally used to hang the rope initiates climbed to develop forearm and grip strength. Now it served as a sort of hangman’s noose, anchoring him to the ceiling by the neck. The collar had slid further up, closer to his jaw, making it even harder to breathe. 

Maul threw another punch at Obi-wan’s midsection. With his hands secured behind him there was very little the Jedi could do about it without choking himself. At the moment, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to. 

Watching the security holo had shattered something inside him. It didn’t seem to matter that Maul bruised his body. It was just an empty shell. The last desperate hope that Anakin could be saved had been scraped out of its hidden place, leaving him feeling hollow. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d given up, Kenobi,” Maul said, grasping the collar and pulling it so Obi-wan had to stand on his toes. “What, finally no one left to rescue you?”

Obi-wan looked up at the zabrack. “And if I didn’t know better I’d say you didn’t know how to throw a punch,” he taunted. “What, afraid your master will find you?” 

“Sidious is NOT my master,” the zabrack fumed, letting go of Obi-wan at the same time he smacked a hand across his cheek. “He left me for dead on Naboo.” 

Obi-wan staggered, quickly adjusting his feet to minimize the pull on his throat. Habit made him open his mouth again. “To be fair, I did cut you in half. No one should be able to come back from that.” 

Fury twitched a muscle in Maul’s jaw. He began to prowl in a circle around Obi-wan, eyes smoldering. “Perhaps we should take a walk to the courtyard. There is an exquisite fountain there I could drown you in.” 

“Or we could go to the archives. At least I wouldn’t die of boredom there.” 

Maul threw back his head and laughed. “Pathetic, Kenobi.” He swept the Jedi’s feet out from under him. 

Obi-wan let out a gargling grunt as his weight fell into the collar. He hurriedly gathered his feet under him, sucking in air, only to have Maul knock him back down. 

“So desperate to live, to avoid pain. I promise you, you will know plenty of it before I’m satisfied.” 

Obi-wan’s throat was on fire. He gasped for air as he succeeded in standing upright once more. Promise. He’d made a promise. 

He took a gulp of air and provoked Maul one more time. “Are we done here? I have things to do.” 

Maul roared, an invisible fist squeezing the Jedi so tightly he felt his ribs would crack. Maul tightened the force hold, holding the Jedi aloft until Obi-wan’s body went limp and his head lolled to the side. Then he ignited his saber, slicing through the leash suspending the Jedi, and let his body fall to the ground in a heap. The Sith rechanneled the urge to kill the man into grasping the man’s ankle and roughly pulling him to a corner. 

Obi-wan stirred weakly as the zabrack sat him against the wall and fastened the remnants of the leash to one of the racks on the wall. The Sith stalked out, snapping orders for the Falleens that had assisted him to prepare to return to the ship. 

When the red and black zabrack was gone, Obi-wan cracked one eye open. Confirming he was alone, he readjusted his position. He breathed carefully through the pain in his neck, throat, ribs, and head, but he was smiling faintly. 

Maul had made a mistake bringing him to the temple. This was his home. He knew every inch of it. Which meant he knew there was a tool and safety kit secured in an out-of-the-way compartment just within reach.


	16. Kenobiaaaiiii!

He hadn’t planned on sending a message after freeing himself from the tether. The stubborn streak inside him wouldn’t let Obi-wan quit, despite the gaping black sense of loss that threatened to swallow him whole. The numbness had been swept away in a tide of grief, and now he had a feeling that he couldn’t quite shake. 

Ahsoka and Yoda had survived. Perhaps others had, as well. Obi-wan’s fingers made quick work of recalibrating the beacon. When it was ready, he folded his arms and spoke as the words came to him. 

“This is Master Obi-wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with a dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder to any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships. But we must persevere.” The words were curiously optimistic, and certainty renewed his sense of purpose. “A new hope will emerge. These may be dark times, but remember that a small spark can become a bright flame.” The words stopped coming. “May the Force be with you, always.” 

He closed the section back into place, tucking away the message that he hoped would reach survivors. The message reminded him: a few still lived. So did Padme and her children.

And Obi-wan had a promise to keep. He slipped from the room, intent on tracking down a light saber and returning for Luke. 

“Kenobiaiiahhhh!” 

The hair on Obi-wan’s neck stood on end. It was a sound of pure rage and desperation. Maul had discovered his escape.

He sprinted for his quarters. He kept Qui-gon’s lightsaber in the desk. If he could just reach it—

A pair of Falleen came around the corner. Their electrostaffs ignited as they spotted him and advanced down the corridor toward him. Obi-wan kept going, straight towards them, siphoning his physical pain into the Force.

He sidestepped the first swipe, grasping the length of the staff and twisting it, forcing the crackling tip into the ground. The Falleen growled, shoving against him. Obi-wan re-directed the momentum into the sentient’s partner, who screamed as the static’s energy took him down. A hand grasped for Obi-wan and he dropped, pulling at the Falleen’s staff. He rose with it firmly in his grasp, deflecting the remaining Falleen’s attack. The weight of the staff was not as comfortable as a lightsaber, and the buzzing energy created a slight vibration, but he adjusted quickly. Though he was a master swordsman, the staff was longer than he was used to, so he kept it simple. Obi-wan had a lifetime of honing his reflexes and skills. With the collar gone and the Force sustaining the Jedi once more, the Falleen didn’t last long. 

Obi-wan kept the staff. He ran for his private quarters, taking the quickest routes and ducking into nooks and crannies when he heard the Black Sun Falleen approaching as they searched for him. 

He nearly made it. 

He sensed the Sith before he saw him. There was an edge to the Force presence, full of malevolence and cunning. Obi-wan turned, lifting the staff. 

Maul strode down the hall toward him, horns slightly lowered. His double-sided saber thrummed as it ignited. “Running away again, Kenobi?” he snarled. 

Electricity sparked to life on the ends of Obi-wan’s electrostaff. “Running? No, I just have somewhere else to be.” 

Maul twirled his saber in a deft pattern. “So soon? No, I have waited too long. Your death will be slow and painful.” 

“Not much reason for me to stick around, then.” Obi-wan rebuffed. He spun the staff, gauging its usefulness before dropping into a defensive stance. 

Maul sprang forward. Ob-wan met him, the staff shuddering as the electricity repelled the red lightsaber and Maul’s ferocity. Obi-wan countered with a downward strike, then bent backward beneath the Sith’s horizontal sweep. They spun around each other, light and dark, trading the upper hand as each sought to outmatch the other. The intensity of Maul’s attacks increased as they ducked and whirled and slashed. Obi-wan carefully worked the zabrack into a pattern of strikes, then pulled back and sending a Force push against the zabrack. Maul flew backward, crashing into a wall, and Obi-wan once again made a beeline for his old quarters and the lightsaber inside. 

A powerful Force presence blazed into existence nearby, casting off its shield, and Obi-wan skid to a stop. The presence burned with the intensity and destructive power of a supernova. The power was unbalanced within it, roiling and threatening to collapse upon itself, yet churning out Force energy. There was a dark focus containing it, and Obi-wan took a step back from the presence. 

Another warning sounded from the Force, and Obi-wan looked over his shoulder to see Maul advancing once more. 

The Jedi turned so he could look either way down the hall, swallowing down a bitter laugh. It seemed he was always destined for these impossible situations.

He was trapped between a vengeful Maul and a very, very angry Vader. 

*******

Vader dropped the shield around his presence as he turned the corner, knowing he had found them. The discovery that Padme had disappeared ignited rage he had not felt even when marching on the temple, or on Mustafar. Whoever took her would pay. 

The stormtroopers guarding the building had put up a good fight, he admitted reluctantly when he had seen the damage the infiltrators left behind. When the troopers reported that the Jedi prisoner had also disappeared in the chaos, something tore loose from within him, something more violent and forceful than anything he had yet felt from the power Sidious promised him. Of course, Obi-wan would have something to do with it.

But then he had seen some of the bodies that the raiders had left behind. He recognized the green humanoids with ridged skulls. They were Falleen, Black Sun, most recently employed by Maul. His certainty that his former mentor had something to do with Padme’s disappearance wavered. But they had to have seen something. Or Maul had taken Obi-wan and Padme both. 

He had gone to the roof of the Imperial Executive building and cast through the Force, searching for Maul’s signature. Once he knew what he was looking for, it had not taken long to discover where the zabrack had gone. Vader’s new connection to the deeper Force heightened his sensitivity, and he could sense the dark satisfaction the zabrack felt. 

Watching the black and red Dathomirian hesitate now, Vader did not have to guess at the reason for the ex-Sith’s hesitation. Vader’s power pulsed, urging him to use it as he looked at the zabrack and the Jedi in front of him. 

One, or both of them, knew what had happened to Padme. 

“Where is she?” He kept tight control of his voice, his anger. His newly unleashed power pushed against the barriers he had placed, begging to be released. 

Obi-wan’s bright blue eyes darted toward him, the staff in the Jedi’s hand rising an inch. 

“Skywalker,” Maul hissed. His red saber deactivated. “So it is true. You have joined him.”

“I have not changed sides,” Vader contradicted. “But I need Sidious in order to save Padme. And now she is gone.” His anger flared, and he extended his hand into the Force, using it to pluck the two beings into the air and pull them toward him. He forced them to their knees before him, the Force a hefty weight on their shoulders. “You will tell me what you know of Padme’s whereabouts,” Vader threatened. 

Maul eyed him warily, the ex-Sith’s own fury and hatred muted beneath Vader’s own. “I know nothing,” the Dathomirian insisted, struggling against the invisible force holding him in place as his saber was wrested from him. “I came to finally fulfill my revenge.” 

For his part, Kenobi ignored the zabrack. Outwardly the Jedi seemed calm, but Vader knew he was equally defiant. Sure enough, the auburn-haired man managed to look up at Vader and raise one eyebrow. “If you’re talking about Padme, your guards will tell you that we never arrived to see her,” he murmured. 

Vader inspected the Jedi. The man was an accomplished diplomat, experienced with schooling his expression and his words. Vader still suspected that at least one of them knew something. 

He scanned Kenobi with the Force. His former master was on the verge of exhaustion, his high pain tolerance nearly at its limits. He was relying on the Force to sustain him. Still, his mental shields were solidly in place. They didn’t waver when Vader prodded at them. Neither did the zabrack’s. Though Vader could force his way in, he knew he did not have complete control over the burning power of his hatred yet. He dared not risk shattering their minds to the point they could reveal nothing about Padme’s whereabouts.

“Fine,” he said, turning on his heel and lifting them in the air again. “We’ll do this the hard way.” The prison below the executive building would hold them until he could break them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan's message and any familiar lines obviously do not belong to me. I did add a line to Obi-wan's message, because we are fanning the flames of rebellion into existence here.   
> Thanks for reading!


	17. Here We Go Again

“So, you are returned alive,” Sidious said, ascending the steps to his throne. He looked distastefully at the Jedi with his arms stretched between the two poles. 

“Saying it like that makes me think you don’t like me,” Obi-wan smirked. 

Sidious looked down at his prisoner, considering. The burns on the Jedi’s neck were healing, less red and the edges less bubbly. The white leathery skin was now clearly recognizable as the Imperial symbol. Despite Vader’s flaws, his apprentice was right. It was a potent statement. One that would be beneficial to instilling the fear that was so crucial in controlling the galaxy. 

“Finished staring?” Obi-wan asked pleasantly. “It’s a step up from a mirror, I suppose, but the view out the window is better.” 

Sidious did not rise to the bait. The man was tiresome, and a public execution held more appeal every time the Jedi opened his mouth. Still, controlling the Jedi HAD made the transition to full power easier than he had expected. There had been small murmurs of dissent, but nothing more. 

He couldn’t help the grin that crept over his face. “Do you know, Master Jedi, why you are here instead of down in the prison with my former apprentice?” 

A lock of hair fell in front of Obi-wan’s face. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” 

“Beginning shortly will be a broadcast to every system in the galaxy. You are here to be an example.” 

“I’ve never been the best example,” Obi-wan said. “And if I’m the best you’ve got, it doesn’t look very promising for your new empire.” 

“Your status as a Jedi would be more than enough.” Sidious motioned to one of the guards at the bottom of the stairs. The two troopers laid down their weapons and came to where Obi-wan was forced to kneel between the posts. Sidious summoned a familiar dark object from where it had been discarded and handed it to the guards. 

Obi-wan eyed the muzzle grimly. “You know, I’m getting tired of this,” he said. Having been cut off from the Force yet again, he was painfully aware of the abuse his body had been taking, and the toll of little food and sleep. He wiggled, turning his head away and making the trooper’s job difficult. Sidious stood watching, hands tucked in his sleeves and satisfaction written in his stance. 

Finally the second trooper resorted to grasping Obi-wan’s hair. The Jedi sighed, then looked into the eye of the clone’s helmet. He tried to picture the man beneath the bucket while the trooper buckled the horrid muzzle around the Jedi’s head. Had he ever met this particular clone? It pained him that he didn’t know. 

The second trooper let go of Obi-wan’s hair and passed a short line to his partner. The cable length had a small clip on either end. The trooper in front of Obi-wan clipped one end of the line to the mouthpiece of the muzzle, then stood. For a moment the clone looked down at Obi-wan, and the Jedi focused on the bucket, wondering what the clone had been like, before. 

The clone was still standing there, and Obi-wan suddenly realized the man’s gloved hand was twitching. Realizing what was happening, Obi-wan looked away from the clone, not wanting to give the Sith Lord reason to harm the trooper. 

The clone gave a tiny shake of the head, as if shaking off a fly, and used the line to yank Obi-wan’s head to the side. The other end of the short cable was attached to a ring on the pole, the tautness of the line keeping the Jedi’s head turned sharply to the right and clearly displaying the Imperial brand. The clones returned to their posts at the base of the steps, and Obi-wan watched them out of the corner of his eye as long as he could., remembering Vader’s words: “YOU do this to them.” 

My fault, the Jedi thought. His soul shuddered. The clones were suffering because they knew him. 

The Emperor’s broadcast was starting. Obi-wan listened carefully at first, trying to understand why he was here. He rolled his eyes as Sidious again blended the end of the war with the end of the Jedi and emphasized the glorious new age that was beginning. Knowing that he would be on display at some point, Obi-wan began moving his hands in random sequences. Then, he carefully began signing in Aluresh. 

NOT CLONES’ FAULT, he signed. INHIBITOR CHIPS. 

He signed it again while the Emperor offered a “personal” appeal for volunteers to be trained as pilots, administrators, and soldiers, loyal to the empire. 

NOT OVER YET, Obi-wan signed. The tiny movements of his hand and fingers caused the leather cuff to chafe the thin skin of his wrist, but he persisted. REBELLION ALREADY RISES. 

He doubted that most would notice the small hand movements, and fewer still would know what they meant. But perhaps Bail or anyone else in the fledgling rebellion would be able to. Aluresh was old, virtually extinct, and few knew it. Obi-wan had tried to teach Anakin, but the young padawan did not take to it and quickly abandoned its study in favor of more katas. 

NOT CLONES’ FAULT Obi-wan signed one final time as Sidious finished his message. 

The Sith sat down on his throne, admitting emissaries. Obi-wan could not look at any of them, only listen as they gave way before the manipulative Sith. He learned that the might of the Empire was already rolling out into the galaxy, occupying some worlds and threatening to blockade others, such as Onderon. 

Obi-wan tried to sit back on his heels to give his knees some relief from grinding into the hard floor, but spikes of pain flared in his shoulders and tugged at the base of his skull. He had a definite crick in his neck, and his limbs felt weak. 

A new voice captured the Jedi’s attention. “My lord, we have news from Mandalore.” Vader, Obi-wan recognized. “Our army has taken heavy casualties. Bo Katan Kryze knew they were coming.” 

The Emperor rose slowly, a shadow crowding into the room. “Is Mandalore in our control?” His voice was cold, terrible in its deceptive calm. 

“Not quite, my lord,” Vader reported. “We have most of the system and most of the base planet. War had already worn down their defensives and reduced their fighting number. Kryze and a large number of her warriors have pulled back and are using guerilla tactics to resist the occupation. The army continues to run into explosives and other traps set by the Mandalorians before the occupation.”

“So they did know.” The darkness seemed to gather around Sidious, again adding to his stature. “Mandalore must be subdued. The Sith Lord stopped in front of Obi-wan, who shuddered at the influence of the dark side surrounding him. “And we must find out how they knew of our plans.” 

******* 

Ahsoka paced back and forth. Somehow she had to return to Coruscant. There were few pilots and less ships on Baluria that would be able to take such a risky trip. She was touched by the efforts the Jedi had made to make a place for the clones, with pre-built homes and planted crops, but in the current situation there was a noticeable lack of weapons. She knew they had been needed for the war effort, but now…

Rex watched her pace. He too felt the need to return to Coruscant. “No little one should be with the Sith,” he had said adamantly. He did not have fond memories of Dooku, or Ventress, or Maul, or Sidious. “Besides, this is personal now.” 

“We need more weapons,” Ahsoka said. “More men.” 

“Not to mention someone crazy or reckless enough to fly right into the krayt dragon’s lair,” Rex agreed. “Someone like…” he trailed off, thinking of General Skywalker. 

Ahsoka looked away. “Yes. Someone the Empire wouldn’t expect.” She stared at the wall, a small idea forming. She tried to discard it. It was too risky. 

When she looked back at Rex, the clone could see the idea growing. He’d seen the look before, both in his Commander and his former General, right before they presented some crazy new plan. “Commander?” 

Ahsoka exhaled slowly. “I might know someone that could help.” 

“Who?” Rex asked cautiously. 

“Hondo.”


	18. Ultimatum

Obi-wan could barely hold his own head up. Cold from the wall at his back seeped into his bones, helping to keep him conscious. One eye was swollen shut, and he was fairly certain two of his ribs were broken. It had been a long interrogation. 

_“How did you escape the containment field?”  
Pain.  
“What did you say to Padme Amidala?”  
Agony as the whip sparked across his shoulders, causing every nerve to fire.  
“Where is she?”  
The whip stung across his ribs, the tip cutting across his left arm. His heart was beginning to stutter from the electricity. _

There was someone standing in the doorway. Obi-wan slowly rolled his head to the side, keeping one arm wrapped protectively around his middle. 

“Mon Mothma,” he said with surprise. The Senator hovered near the door, then tentatively came in. She crouched beside him, and he hitched himself further up on the wall, keeping his features stiff to hide the pain it caused. 

“We have to get you out of here,” the Senator said grimly. 

Obi-wan’s mouth twitched. “That sounds lovely, but I’m not leaving without Luke.” His voice was hoarse. He kept his good eye focused on the Senator. “Do you have any news of Padme’s child?” 

“They keep him in a medbay, mostly. They have nurse droids taking care of him.” 

“Good, I suppose,” Obi-wan sighed. 

“You saved Mandalore,” Mon Mothma said quietly. “They had time to set up defenses. Much of the system has been taken, but most of the people managed to evacuate.”  
Obi-wan closed his eye briefly in relief. “Mandalore always survives,” he murmured. The fog around his brain was lifting, and he remembered the Emperor’s directives he had overheard. 

_Something blunt slammed into his side, and something inside him gave way. Pain flared from his ribs, pulsing anew with every shallow breath._  
“How did you tell Mandalore about the invasion?”  
Something sharp pricked beneath his chin. “It had to be you.” His body tensed as the knife blade teased over his racing pulse. “How did you do it?” 

Obi-wan swallowed, pushing down the memory of the knife slicing tiny furrows through his skin. “The Empire is going to place a blockade against Onderon,” he said aloud. “They’ll need support. Resources, if we can.” 

He thought Mon Mothma nodded. “I’ll pass it along.” 

“Sidious has gained solid footing among the core worlds,” Obi-wan said, fighting down a cough. “He now turns his attention to the Outer Rim. He is forming an army, and in the meantime plans to occupy Lothal and Ryloth.” Something else occurred to him, and he mentally berated himself for not remembering it sooner. “He has plans to build something, a weapon. He carries the plans on a handheld holoprojector and shows it to Vader on occasion. I believe he mentioned the Geonosians. Whatever it is, he has kept it as private as possible. From what I heard, he believes it will ensure his hold on power.” 

“We will do our best to find out,” Mon Mothma whispered. A door slammed somewhere in the prison, and the Senator shot to her feet. 

“Go,” Obi-wan said urgently. 

The Senator fled, and Obi-wan listened intently. Soon he could hear heavy footfalls coming down the hall. They stopped outside, and the panel for the door beeped once more. 

A beefy hand grasped the neck of his tunic, hauling him to his feet. Obi-wan groaned as the large Falleen drew one arm over its shoulder. The hired thug dragged him out of the cell and down the corridor. The Jedi tried to keep an eye out for Mon Mothma, but she seemed to have managed to at least find a place to hide. 

The Falleen pulled him into a familiar, larger room and deposited him on one of the interrogation chairs. Obi-wan groaned at the jarring impact. His wrists and ankles were clamped to the hard surface with metal cuffs that bit into his red and tender skin. 

As the table was rotated to its unsettling slant, Obi-wan looked around anxiously for the clones. They were shackled to the wall by chains connected to ankles, but Obi-wan was relieved to see that all five were there, and that they seemed relatively unharmed. 

Crys was standing, arms folded as he inspected the newly arrived Jedi. The clones were able to be close to each other, Obi-wan saw, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he saw the way they comforted each other, sticking close to each other’s sides. 

The Jedi’s attention was divided as his lucidity increased and he became aware of two intense gazes. One of them, he realized, was Cody. The clone’s amber eyes burned into him, an unreadable expression on his face. The other Obi-wan had to roll his head the other way to find. 

Maul’s yellowed glare could have burned a hole in the Jedi. The zabrack had been chained to the wall with his arms overhead. His legs supported the Sith, so he seemed to be better off than Obi-wan. 

The auburn-haired Jedi faced front again, carefully taking a slow breath. The Falleen that had brought him here backed away, his ridged skull disappearing from Obi-wan’s view. Several uncomfortable moments passed until Vader walked in, prodding a clone in front of him. 

As always, seeing the Sith caused a vice to squeeze around Obi-wan’s heart. It’s not him, he reminded himself. The imprisoned clones were all on their feet now, watching as their brother was pulled towards Obi-wan. For his part, the Jedi kept his breathing even and calm, despite the anxiety that surged. Without the Force and with the clone still in repainted white armor he could not yet identify the clone, but he was somehow sure it was the same that had been on guard in Sidious’ throne room. 

Vader stopped the clone in front of Obi-wan with a hand on the clone’s shoulder. The clone did not resist Vader as his helmet was removed and tossed aside. Obi-wan relied on both Jedi and diplomatic discipline to keep his own features blank while the clone stared back at him, a myriad of expressions passing over the familiar face in quick succession.

“Kix?” One of the clones asked. Cody, most likely. 

Vader kept hold on the back of the clone’s neck as he frowned at Obi-wan. “This clone is now like the others. Being around you has brought on shaking and traitorous thoughts. Why is that? What is it about you that causes these defections?”

The clone flinched at the word ‘defection,’ and Obi-wan’s heart lurched. “That is a question you should ask yourself,” Obi-wan said softly. His throat was so parched it was a wonder he could get the words out at all. “A person cannot be ‘defective,’ as you put it. And as you of all people would know, the word ‘defective’ implies some kind of programming. I’d say you know the answer.” 

“Silence, traitor,” Kix snarled. But confusion drained the venom from the statement. 

“You will tell me what I want to know, or you will watch this defector suffer.” Vader had never seemed less like Anakin, but he had all of the former Jedi Knight’s explosive impulse. Ignoring the sounds of protest and then pain from the clones near the wall, the Sith challenged Obi-wan, wordlessly conveying the severity of the threat. 

“I don’t know where Padme is,” Obi-wan declared in the best calming voice he could. 

“Very well,” Vader said. He let go of Kix, who sank down to his knees, brown eyes locked on the Jedi in front of him with a dazed look. A few drops of blood oozed from where the restraints bit into Obi-wan’s wrists, slowly beading towards his fingertips as the Jedi instinctively tried to prevent one of the Falleen mercenaries from handing Vader an electrojabber.

“If you don’t know the whereabouts of my wife—which I highly doubt is the case—then you still need to answer questions about Mandalore.” Kix fell to hands and knees as electricity jolted through him. 

“Stop! Leave him alone!” Obi-wan fought, distressed at the cries of pain and the weakened efforts that were all he could manage at the moment. He turned to words, attempting to talk the Sith down. “Mandalore was just dealing with the Shadow Syndicate. Knowing the Mandalorians as I do, I would think they were still geared up for a fight.” Obi-wan kept talking, though his voice was becoming fainter. The shock had ended, and Kix sat back again, head tilted as he continued to watch Obi-wan, hands clenching and unclenching. 

“Leave them alone. You wonder why the clones are suddenly changing their minds. Find out,” he urged. His voice was nearly a whisper now. 

“I do not doubt that the Empire is the better choice,” Vader rumbled. He went silent, brow furrowed as he watched his former master. “But I also know you would do anything to keep others from being hurt because of you… even cast aside your dignity and beg.” Obi-wan’s head lifted cautiously. Did Vader believe him? 

“Put this one with the others,” Vader said to the Falleen. Two of the green-scaled reptilians removed Kix, and Obi-wan relaxed slightly though the clones were being covered with double-barreled blasters. 

Vader watched the relief in the slump of Obi-wan’s shoulders. “I have somewhere I would like to be,” the Sith shared, tucking his hands into his black robe. “I am willing to give you overnight to think about it. I’m sure you and the rest of the traitors will have plenty to talk about.” Vader grinned wickedly. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know then, I will let Maul have free rein towards you.” 

Obi-wan glanced sidelong to where the zabrack was watching. “You really think he would do that for you when you’ve interrogated him too?”

Maul’s focus never wavered from Obi-wan’s face, and the vengeful smile that curled the zabrack’s lips, showing his teeth, suddenly made the Jedi unsure of himself. 

Vader noticed, but he did not smile. “I think you seriously underestimate the depth of his hatred for you.” The Sith beckoned to the Falleen, who filed out of the room after him, leaving the congregated prisoners in darkness.


	19. That Changes Things

Ahsoka walked down the ramp, looking around at the drab landscape of Florrum. She waited at the bottom of the ramp, arms folded, and light sabers clearly visible. Rex joined her, patiently waiting a pace behind her until the pirates began to emerge. The first pirates stayed back, waiting for their leader. 

“Who dares—” the weequay said as he came into the waning light. He stopped mid gesture as he caught sight of Ahsoka. “Jedi? I did not expect—” 

“Hondo,” Ahsoka said in a carrying voice, “I’ve come to discuss business.” 

“Well!” the pirate laughed, “Why didn’t you say so? Come, come!” He beckoned them to follow, turning and disappearing back into his fortress. 

“Keep your blasters handy,” Ahsoka murmured to Rex. They followed the weequay, Rex staring down each pirate they passed. 

“I should have known I would see you again, child,” Hondo said, pouring himself a glass of something potent at the bar. “I must say, this war is good business!” 

Ahsoka frowned. “About that,” she said, folding her arms again. “The war is over, or haven’t you heard?”

The weequay’s bright smile faded. “Ah, yes, my sources did mention something like that. Said something about a new emperor, too… In that case, why are you here?” 

“We are in need of a ship,” Ahsoka said carefully. “One that can slip under the radar for a rescue mission. As I recall, you had several such ships.” 

“Perhaps.” Hondo peered at her over his glass. “But if you plan to pay in credits, I’m afraid I cannot accept.” 

“We won’t be paying you, in credits or otherwise,” Ahsoka started. 

Hondo sputtered, spitting out some of his drink. “Not paying? Then, dear Jedi, it is not business, and you do not seem to have many allies.” The pirates waiting on the outskirts of the room crept closer. 

“I just need to borrow the ship to save Master Obi-wan,” Ahsoka said, one hand poised over her saber. “In fact, I’ll up my offer. We will hire you and your crew to help us get him back.”

“Kenobi’s in trouble?” Hondo asked, tilting his head. “He is good at that!” The pirate spun on his chair, tipping his head back and downing the rest of his drink. 

“The Sith have him on Coruscant,” Ahsoka said. She watched the weequay carefully, trusting Rex to guard her back. She didn’t expect the pirate to recognize the word, but apparently, he did.

“The two horned crazies are alive?” Hondo slammed the empty cup down. 

“Just one of them. But the new Emperor is a Sith as well. He was Dooku’s master,” she added, hoping to tip the pirate’s notoriously vacillating allegiance in their favor.

The weequay scowled at the name. “Is he there too? I would like to shoot him, I think.” Ahsoka shook her head. She explained the situation to Hondo, who listened with surprising attentiveness. 

When she finished, the pirate stood and walked away, hands behind his back. “I like Kenobi, sometimes. And the Separatists are not my friends. But if this new leader is so powerful to defeat all the Jedi, why then would I risk my men and my ships? It is not profitable! No deal!” he said, flapping an arm and swaggering away. 

Ahsoka watched him go, feeling helpless. Without anything to offer the pirates, there was little hope of their involvement. She was surprised when the pirate stopped and spoke again. “On our last little adventure with Dooku, there was a little Tholothian warrior child. About so high,” the weequay stooped, indicating a height far too close to the ground. He popped up again, facing Ahsoka. “Did the child learn to swish her lightstick yet?” 

Ahsoka’s eyes dropped. “This Sith leader had all the younglings killed.” 

When she looked up, Hondo was standing silently, arms at his sides. “Well, that changes things,” he said quietly. 

He whirled around, throwing his arms wide. “My men! We have done well, with no small thanks to me!” The pirates cheered, some raising a glass or fist in the air. Hondo chuckled, encouraging them and motioning for them to be quiet in the same gesture. “Yes, yes, I know! But we are not yet as rich as we will be! Our next expedition is the world of the rich!”  
The cheers were fewer, less enthusiastic. Unfazed, the pirate leader stood with a wide stance, hands on his hips. “Too dangerous, you say? Ha! They have never seen the likes of Hondo! Besides,” he said, a wide grin stretching across his face, “for the first and only time, I will let you use my personal fleet and store of weapons!” 

The enthusiasm was partially returned, and Ahsoka glanced at Rex, who shrugged. 

“To my ships!” the pirate called. He herded his band before him. 

Ahsoka hurried to catch up. “Store of weapons?” she demanded in a low voice. “How did that convince them?” 

Hondo grinned. “It is a very good collection,” he boasted. 

“Then I hope it has something we can use as a distraction in it,” Ahsoka said. “And won’t your men disappear when they find out they aren’t getting riches?” 

Hondo draped an arm over Ahoska’s shoulders. Rex palmed his blaster in distrust, but the Togruta had already shaken the weequay off. The pirate pretended not to notice. “Who is to say we won’t get rich?” he laughed. He shook a finger in the air. “Besides, if my men leave when we arrive, they can be the distraction.” 

“Hm.” Ahsoka looked at the pirate skeptically. “And that doesn’t bother you?” 

Hondo placed his hand on a keypad. “I do not like traitors,” he said in that tone of voice that showed he was more dangerous than he sometimes pretended to be. 

“We will still need a way to get in to where they are keeping General Kenobi,” Rex reminded them. 

“Not to worry, I may have just the thing,” Hondo chuckled. “I’ve been looking forward to using them.” The door opened, revealing a cavern filled with crates of various sizes. The pirates crowded past Hondo, eagerly rummaging through the crates and filling their hands with explosives and blasters. Ahsoka and Rex watched them, then turned to Hondo.

“So?” Rex asked. The clone kept his pistol close at hand, hyper aware of the armed pirates around them. 

“Over here.” Hondo walked towards a small crate. “Or, was it over here? Yes, yes, this way!” He changed directions abruptly, leading the two friends to a long box. The pirate pried it open, then stepped back, spreading his arms in a grandiose display. “What did I tell you! Not bad, eh?” 

Ahsoka and Rex leaned closer, looking at the weapons carefully nested in the crate. 

“Rocket launchers?” Rex asked incredulously. 

“Republic rocket launchers,” Ahsoka noted. She lifted one eyebrow, unknowingly reminding Hondo of Kenobi. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they look like part of a shipment you took to Onderon.” 

“Really?” Hondo gasped, pretending to inspect the powerful devise. “Would you look at that! How fortunate that I was able to find them for you!” 

Ahsoka took a calming breath. They needed his help, she reminded herself, and the rocket launchers might just make the rescue possible. “Right. Let’s go.”


	20. Calm Before the Coming Storms

Obi-wan was silent for a time. His vocal cords felt gritty, like he had swallowed gravel. If someone told him his hands and feet were encased with ice, he would believe them. He listened to the clones, quickly realizing they were talking to Kix, calming him. Obi-wan closed his eyes against the sound of the clone’s fight against the chip, taking comfort in the fact that Trapper, Crys, and the others seemed to be more like themselves. After a while the clones were quiet as well, and at least two of them seemed to fall asleep, their breaths evening and deepening. 

“Cody?” Obi-wan whispered experimentally. “Is he alright?” 

There was no response for a few long seconds, and Obi-wan was convinced his former commander was either asleep or refusing to speak to him. Then, “He’ll be fine.” Even softer, “General.” 

It wasn’t much, but Obi-wan clung to the shred of recognition like a lifeline. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. His voice was so hoarse he could barely speak above a whisper, but in the deep stillness of the dark cell it did not seem to matter. 

“What happened to us?” one of the clones asked. “We were fighting Grievous, and then…” He trailed off. 

Obi-wan wasn’t sure how to answer at first. He settled on, “We were all betrayed. By Darth Sidious.” 

“But why don’t any of us remember?” 

Obi-wan squeezed his eyes tight. Would it help or hurt the clones to know? He didn’t know, so he simply asked them what they wanted. Invariably, they wanted to know. The Jedi explained the inhibitor chips that had been implanted in every clone while on Kamino, and how Sidious had played both sides of the war to sow distrust of the Jedi and cause chaos in the galaxy. “However the chip worked, Sidious was able to—to control you,” he faltered. “He still controls most of your brothers.” 

“What did he make us do?” The question sounded timid. 

Obi-wan drew in a single deeper breath, biting his lip against the stabbing pain in his ribs. The memory of the devastating grief echoing through the force, and the horror of his own realizations of its truth, crept out of the places he had pushed them. 

“The Jedi are dead.” Maul’s cold voice came from the Jedi’s other side. “At last you see. HE was always there, in the shadows. He was behind everything. You never stood a chance.” 

“The Jedi?” Whispering forgotten, the clone’s voice was increasing in volume. “We killed the Jedi?” 

“Traitors! Threats to the—hng—” Chains rattled as the imprisoned clones reached out to steady Kix as he wrestled the infernal implant in his brain. 

“It’s not your fault,” Obi-wan said kindly. “They didn’t have a choice.” 

“None of you did,” Maul cut in again. “You were so determinedly ignorant, Kenobi. Your arrogance has defeated you at last.” 

“Do hush, Maul,” Obi-wan said tiredly, letting some of his indignation infuse the words. He listened, head turning toward the clones, trying to gauge the effect of the zabrack’s cruel answer. 

“Would you keep talking, sir?” Cody requested. “It… helps.” 

And so he did. He talked them through campaigns and joked about barracks, and how good a ration bar sounded. Together they mourned the dead. He joined them in coaxing Kix into the conversation, and together the clones explained how they were overcoming the chips. 

Familiarity, Obi-wan reasoned as he listened, grateful to rest his voice. Many of the 212th and 501st had been redistributed, but the more time they spent around Obi-wan, the more they remembered they knew him, and the growing realization that something wasn’t right. Even Kix had spent time with General Kenobi before he was transferred to the 501st. Cody described in as few words as possible how speaking with Sidious seemed to muddy things again. 

It made sense, Obi-wan thought. The clones that had been in other divisions did not have the advantage of interacting with the Jedi they remembered. They were trapped. 

“This is all fascinating,” Maul said sarcastically. “And enlightening. Such loyalty makes them vulnerable. If you hurt one, they all hurt.” The Sith chuckled darkly. 

“Loyalty isn’t a bad thing,” Obi-wan answered. “Speaking of, is it confusing to have Falleen here that aren’t your Black Sun followers?” 

“All in good time,” Maul sail. “I will be free. Until then, enjoy the time with your… how do they refer to themselves? Brothers?” 

“What happened to you brother, anyway?” Obi-wan asked. It was genuine curiosity. There had been no sign of Savage since Maul had killed Satine. If the large zabrack was out there, it may be that a rescue would be attempted to free Maul. 

“Sidious.” 

Obi-wan’s brow furrowed. Had he heard pain in Maul’s voice? “I’m sorry,” he said. Even as a whisper, there was a question in the Jedi’s tone. 

“I don’t want your pity,” Maul snarled. The familiar derision and dislike was back. “I want your suffering. I once promised you that your death would be beyond excruciating. Now that everything has been taken from you, your life proved to be empty and useless, it is time to fulfill that promise. And it will be by MY hand.” 

“So you plan to do the dirty work for Sidious? The one that killed your brother?” 

The zabrack’s deep growl was accompanied with the rattle of chains. “I will kill you, Kenobi, slowly and with relish. You stole my destiny from me! I was once destined to be one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy, leading the Dark Lord’s army. And eventually I would take his place, with my own apprentice. But YOU took that from me!” 

“I never did understand the Sith,” Obi-wan said to the ceiling. “Always killing each other off. The rule of two isn’t even a rule, it’s a result.” 

“There can only be two,” Maul fumed. “It is the only rule of the Sith.” 

“There have been more than two Sith running around for years,” Obi-wan pointed out. “You are still Sith. The rule of two isn’t a rule at all. It’s what happens because the Sith are all too hungry for power. Your very creed tells you you must be the most powerful, pushing you to eliminate any perceived competition until there are no other Sith left. The rule of two is just a result of greed and clouded judgement.” 

“And Skywalker was to balance it all,” Maul mocked. “How does it feel, knowing that he fulfilled your precious prophecy by killing all the Jedi but you and Tano?” 

Obi-wan’s eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness, but he kept them closed. “Balancing the number that utilize the light or dark does not balance the Force itself,” he murmured. “The Force is more unbalanced than ever. There is more fear than hope in the galaxy.” It would be the largest task of the growing rebel force, to produce hope that things could change. 

“And Skywalker was always the key,” Maul said to himself.

They lapsed into silence, waiting for dawn. 

*********

Rex wished he could hide beneath his helmet just for the relief of rolling his eyes in private. How did he always get into these situations? He never expected that a mission would require teaming up with pirates against his brothers. Or that he would be attacking the very heart of Coruscant with said pirates, his commander, and a Senator from Naboo.

The last had certainly been a surprise. They’d walked out of Hondo’s stronghold to find Padme Amidala waiting for them, her private shuttle neatly parked. She had a blaster in hand and a challenge in her eye. Rex was not familiar with parenthood, but he knew the steely look that dared anyone to stand in their way. The Senator had it. So she joined them on Hondo’s starship. 

They were still nearly a standard cycle away from Coruscant. Rex hated to think what kind of shape they would find General Kenobi in. Last time the General had been more or less ok, though more haggard than Rex had ever seen him. The self-sacrificing idiot would be in trouble now, he had no doubt. 

His left hand now permanently rested on the handle of his pistol. Hondo had plied his men with drinks to keep them distracted, and now the flamboyant pirate was reviewing the plan with Commander Tano. 

“It is simple,” Hondo was saying. “You go in with your fancy laser sword, and me and my men will stay with the ships. You get Kenobi. I get to try out my honestly acquired weapons on the maniac that sent Dooku to attack my stronghold.”

“Yes,” Ahsoka said, struggling to speak patiently. “But I don’t trust you to not just fly away when the Sith and the troopers start fighting back. Rex is going to have the other rocket launcher.” 

Hondo’s eyes turned to the clone. Rex smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“You don’t trust me? I am wounded,” the weequay said. “After all we have done together?” 

“I’ll need you to use the launcher and whatever guns this ship has got on the building,” Ahsoka went on, ignoring the pirate’s rhetoric. “Once the shields go down, tell your men to be careful. We don’t want to blow the whole thing up.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Hondo said, shaking a finger at her. “Do not worry, we will wait until you and Kenobi are clear.” 

Ahsoka conceded. They would not arrive until evening on Coruscant. By that time, it was highly unlikely that any innocents would still be in the building. She handed the pirate captain a commlink. “Just be ready to pick us up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue this time, sorry. But we have some clones that are almost back to normal, so that's a plus. And there is no way if Padme had lived that she wouldn't raid the place on her own if she had to, to get her baby back. We're almost to a climax; thanks for reading this far!


	21. Escape

It was Sidious, not Vader, that came. There was no need of guessing what kind of mood the Sith was in; the room seemed to become even colder when he entered, and a deep scowl was visible beneath his hood. Three Falleen shuffled in behind him, glancing at one another nervously.

“Take him to a cell,” Sidious said, pointing at Maul. “And make sure he is secure.” 

The Falleen leaped to obey, one holding a blaster to the zabrack’s skull at all times. Maul cringed away from the Sith Lord as he was taken past, mechanical knees bending as if sapped of strength. The Sith Lord did not acknowledge the zabrack, instead staring straight ahead at Obi-wan. 

The Jedi recited the Jedi code in his mind to calm himself, preparing for whatever the Sith had planned. Sidious paced toward him, looking like a sinister depiction of death. Obi-wan opened his mouth to say something but was immediately stopped by Sidious’s force hold clamping over him, holding his jaw closed. 

“Listen closely,” the old man said. His hand wasn’t even stretched out, but Obi-wan knew the hold was from him because of the bruising anger behind it. “My apprentice has become distracted. You are going to be a message to Padme Amidala. Lure her here to rescue you, or I will kill every clone and child in front of you.” 

The hold on Obi-wan’s jaw dropped away, and he stared at Sidious. “I can’t send a message to someone I have no way to contact.” 

“Do not lie to me,” Sidious glowered. “You are the only one that has been privy to my plans of late. Somehow, you are fostering a rebellion.” The Sith was nearly grinding his teeth. 

“What can I say, I’m a born rebel,” Obi-wan rasped. 

Sidious took a step closer, hand rising before being carefully lowered again. “Do not test my patience,” the Sith warned. “I would just as soon kill you. But you respond better to this.” The Sith’s hand shot out to the side, and one of the clones was jerked into the air, clutching at his throat. The other clones leaped to their feet. 

“NO!” Obi-wan reopened the wound on his wrist. He automatically reached for the Force, but it slipped away, leaving him feeling ill. The Falleen re-entered the room, backing away quickly as they saw the suspended clone. 

“Don’t… General,” the clone choked. Cody, Obi-wan realized. 

He thought quickly. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he said. Cody dropped to the ground, quickly surrounded by his vod. Obi-wan’s eyes darted anxiously to check on the clone, then back to Sidious. “But I can’t do it here,” he continued. “It has to be from the throne room.” 

Sidious was watching him very carefully. “You misunderstand,” he said with a slow smile. “I will be sending the message. All I need from YOU is for you to look properly defeated.” He gestured to the Falleen behind him, who gave him a wide berth as they came to retrieve Obi-wan. 

*****

After the cursory beating, the Jedi had remained on the interrogation table while Sidious announced his public execution, to take place in three cycles’ time. Obi-wan kept his head bowed, as directed, hanging loosely on the table’s slanted surface. His hands, however, slowly and irregularly shaped the signs, STAY AWAY, TRAP. He didn’t dare do any more. Sidious left him there for most of the day, under heavy guard. Every once in a while, the Falleen would give him a low shock, keeping him awake. By late afternoon, the Falleen were getting bored. Vader had not yet returned. Obi-wan had no little consternation about that fact. 

As exhausted as he was, he noticed the clones conferring quietly among themselves whenever they could, and the way they watched as the Falleen came and went. Cody in particular watched where the mercenaries kept the key to the door. 

A Falleen with a shorter ponytail than most approached Obi-wan, a sloshing container in one hand. He swallowed at the sound. The mercenary noticed and grinned, inspecting the Jedi’s injuries. With his free hand the Falleen clapped the Jedi non too gently on the shoulder, jarring Obi-wan’s ribs. “Bet you could use some of this,” the mercenary laughed while Obi-wan wheezed. He then held the container to the Jedi’s dry lips. Obi-wan expected a trick of some kind, but he was allowed several swallows of the water. 

“Thank you,” he said as the mercenary walked away. The liquid had done wonders for his voice, though it was still harsh. Obi-wan noticed the clones readying themselves as the Falleen approached. His heart rate picked up, knowing the troopers were about to take action. 

“Do you happen to have a tattoo of a circle and sunburst?” Obi-wan asked quickly. “It’s common among your people.” The Falleen turned to look at him, surprised and a little unsettled. 

Unfortunately for him, he was within reach of the clones. They wasted no time in bringing their captor down. Trapper, who was closest, launched himself forward, grabbing the mercenary and slinging him towards the other clones. The container of liquid fell to the floor. Crys threw an arm around the mercenary’s neck while Cody grabbed for the double-barreled blaster that fell from the Falleen’s hand. The mercenary’s struggles grew weaker, and finally he went limp. Crys loosened his grip, easing away from the unconscious body. Trapper grabbed for the key and set about releasing him and his vod from the chains. 

“Grab the General,” Cody directed Trapper. 

“Well done,” Obi-wan smiled as the trooper unlocked the restraints. “He never saw it coming.” 

Kix stumbled to his feet and made his way towards the Jedi, under careful watch of Cody. The former medic inspected the thin collar around the Jedi’s neck. “Thanks for the help, sir,” he mumbled. He took the key from Trapper and unlocked the collar, casting it aside. 

Obi-wan felt the Force surround him, and he buckled as his depleted system was temporarily overwhelmed. He felt hands steadying him until he could prop himself up with the Force, relying on it for strength and coordination. He reached out briefly, sensing each of the clones. The warmth of their familiar presences gave him courage; he could tell they were largely themselves again. 

“Alright, sir?” Kix asked. 

Obi-wan nodded once. “Let’s get out of here.” 

They clustered around the door in a drilled formation, Obi-wan taking his usual place in the center but back from the door. Cody unlocked the door, and it slid aside. Obi-wan used the blaster to take out one of the guards while Obi-wan used the force to knock the other against the wall, knocking him unconscious. Crys and Trapper retrieved the guards’ weapons. 

There were no other guards visible, though raucous laughter could be heard from one of the rooms down the hall. Obi-wan led the clones towards the only exit, his bare feet making no sound on the cold stone floor. 

A glimpse into one of the cells pulled him up short. Maul had been transferred to a small space with a containment field. The Sith's burning eyes pierced Obi-wan. The Jedi stood watching the zabrack for a moment. This was the monster that had killed Qui-gon, and Satine, and an entire innocent village to get his attention. He was a Sith, and had promised to harm Obi-wan in every way possible. He sensed more than heard one of the clones tense behind him. 

His gaze never leaving Maul's, Obi-wan reached out and touched the cell's control panel, deactivating the containment field. Maul fell to his hands and knees, looking up at Obi-wan with an odd expression. 

Obi-wan walked away, the clones on his heels as he led them towards freedom. He could see the exit and lift when the shrill notes of an alarm began to wail.


	22. Reduce Fire Power!

Obi-wan turned, expecting to see Maul or the rest of the Falleen guards behind them. Seeing no one, he made for the lift. “Go! Go!” They all piled in, the doors closing behind them. The alarm was muted inside. 

“I don’t know if the alarm was for us,” the Jedi said. “I have a—”

“Please don’t say ‘bad feeling,’” Cody interrupted. 

Obi-wan quirked a smile. “No, not exactly. Just a feeling we won’t be alone up there.” The Force was urging him to move. “There’s something I need to retrieve before I can go. If you see a way out, take it.” 

“We’re staying with you, General,” Trapper insisted. The other clones nodded. 

Obi-wan huffed a laugh, releasing the pain from his ribs into the Force. “Then maybe we can feign a prisoner transfer. It’s happened often enough we might get away with it.” They rearranged themselves in the small space, with Obi-wan in the center. The three clones with the blasters took the front. The lift came to a stop, and the door slid smoothly open, and the group moved out into the open. 

Stormtroopers ran past, heading outside, of all places. Airfield, Obi-wan thought. He took a moment to get his bearings, searching in the Force. He found where he needed to go, and subtly directed the clones. 

A blast rattled the building, and Obi-wan glanced at the clones, just as perplexed as they were. Another attack on the core of the Empire? They kept moving, Obi-wan drawing heavily on the Force to keep upright and moving. The way to the medbay was primarily clear, though he could hear sounds of more explosions and gunfire. Another explosion rattled the building, alarms blaring as the building’s shields were destroyed. 

Obi-wan quested ahead. He could sense Vader nearby but could not pin down his location. He could feel another presence coming toward him, though, one that he was familiar with. “Ahsoka’s here,” he told the clones. Bewildered, he focused again, sensing that she would cross paths soon. “She’ll be coming from over there.”

Cody nodded affirmation, jogging side by side with Obi-wan as they rounded the last corner. 

A section of outer wall had been blown away, and stormtroopers stood shoulder to shoulder, firing out at a ship that hovered, systematically firing along the building. Obi-wan sent a burst of energy down the hallway, sending the troopers flying sideways. He and the clones darted past the hole, and Obi-wan glanced out as he went past. His brow furrowed again. Was that a pirate out there? 

They were almost to the medbay. Boil shouted a warning as a group of stormtroopers came behind them. Cody whirled, firing at the stormtrooper’s legs and feet. Obi-wan re-directed the stormtrooper’s initial fire into the ceiling with a wave of his hand, until Cody yanked him out of the way behind an outcrop. Trapper froze for an instant, hesitant to fire upon the troopers. 

Obi-wan bit his lip, preparing to release another force blast, but someone beat him to it. He sensed it pass, and the returning fire stopped. He peered down the hallway, confirming what he already knew. 

It wasn’t Ahsoka. 

The troopers across from Obi-wan and Cody realized it at the same time. Trapper got off a few shots that streaked down the corridor, only to be deflected by the dark hooded figure. A red lightsaber cast a deadly glow around him, and Obi-wan braced himself as a metal object was thrown to the floor near his feet. 

The Force clashed around them, as if fighting itself, and Obi-wan drew the light around him more closely. “This will go differently than our last duel,” Vader said, brandishing his lightsaber in a traditional flourish. 

Obi-wan summoned the metallic object Vader had kicked toward him into his hand. His lightsaber hummed to him, and he ignited it, feeling the familiar weight and energy. “Where is the child?” he asked calmly, walking several paces into the open. 

A maelstrom roared into the Force around Vader, but Obi-wan ignored it, drawing up his mental shields. “So. You are here for my son.” Vader’s voice was dangerously low, and he began to circle to Obi-wan’s right. “I knew you were, when you showed up here again.” 

“I’ll take him somewhere safe,” Obi-wan said, shifting his stance to follow Vader’s path. A quick hand motion ordered the clones to stay back. They did so, albeit reluctantly. “Away from Sidious.”

“He is safe with me!” Vader hissed. “He belongs with me! You will NOT take him!” His voice had grown into a howl, and he Force-jumped toward Obi-wan, saber falling in a devastating blow. Obi-wan deflected it and the following battering strikes. He followed up with an offensive set that pushed Vader backward, away from the clones. Smoke was filling the hallways, making his eyes smart. 

They were moving so quickly the clones couldn’t get off a shot. Even with the sustaining power of the Force, pain flared through his body. “Can’t say I like what you did to your lightsaber,” Obi-wan said to distract himself. He dodged a wide swing from Vader by leaping up the wall and pushing off with one leg, landing between Vader and the medbay. He switched to his preferred defensive form, giving ground and slowly maneuvering the fight closer to the medbay doors. 

The Force warned him, sudden and clarion, that Luke was in danger. 

********

“Reduce fire power!” Rex shouted to the pirate captain. The thin round starship made another low pass over the building, and the blonde clone balanced the rocket launcher on his shoulder, critically evaluating the chaos below. Several of the smaller pirate ships had landed, quickly raiding any crates or stores that still sat in the open hangar. Other smaller ships battled the Imperial craft that had managed to get in the air. The main building itself was on fire, several holes blasted in it from the launchers and gunships. 

“Commander, have you found him?” He spoke into his commlink. 

“Not yet,” Commander Tano answered. “I think he keeps moving, but he’s just ahead. I can hear…” She cut out, and Rex tried to raise her again with no result. 

“Well?” Hondo asked, marching into the open cargo area. His elaborate coat flapped in the wind. “Reinforcements from other hangars are coming in. It is time to cut our losses.” 

“Not a chance.” Rex purposely turned so the launcher on his shoulder was pointed in Hondo’s direction. The pirate was unfazed, looking past Rex to the smoking building below. The ship rocked as an Imperial ship was blow from the sky, spiraling down to crash into the building. The ship’s fuel tanks exploded in flame inside. Rex held on to a stabilization strap as the ship veered sharply, evading the updrafts and enemy fire. 

Hondo’s commlink beeped. “Bring the ship down where that big explosion was,” Ahsoka directed. “Hurry!” The weequay spun, and Rex ran with him to the command center. 

“Put the ship down there,” Hondo ordered, pointing to Ahsoka’s designated area. “Be quick about it, we don’t want an angry Jedi.” 

Rex commed the Togruta again. “Commander, come in. Are you there? What’s happening?” 

“We’re coming on board,” Ahsoka said. Her voice sounded tight. Frightened. “See if Hondo has any medical supplies.”


	23. Self-sacrifice

Vader must have felt the warning too. They ran, sabers sinking back into their hilts. Vader disengaged the door, and as it slid open Obi-wan threw himself forward, rolling underneath the Sith’s attempt to slow him down. Rolling up onto one knee, the Jedi thrust a hand back, the push sending Vader headlong into the thick glass window. 

A wailing cry alerted Obi-wan to Luke’s position. He sprinted for the nurse droid and the wrapped little being it bent protectively over. There was no time to gather anything the child might need. Obi-wan scooped the baby in one arm, nestling its head near his elbow, and turned to run. FASTER! the Force warned, and he put on a burst of speed. Vader was climbing to his feet, saber igniting again, and Obi-wan lifted his own—

Then the world shattered. The wall and ceiling shrieked, shrapnel spraying the room as something large ripped through. Obi-wan was thrown to one side, and he twisted midair so as not to land on Luke. He came down hard on one shoulder, sliding a little across the floor. In that brief instant he saw that the object that had crashed into the room was aircraft, and he curled his body around Luke, protecting the screaming infant from the explosion that ripped apart the ship. He drew the Force around them in a sort of shield, throwing all his remaining energy into it. 

The fuel and fumes were consumed in a blazing fireball that rolled upward and out, igniting the walls and melting metal closest to the explosion’s source. The displaced air thundered around them, and Obi-wan’s ears popped even with the Force shield. Gray tinged his vision, and the Jedi shook his head, trying to clear it. 

The room had been blasted apart. Obi-wan could feel the heat of the flames through the shield, and panic filled him. The air was thick with dark smoke. He tried to move, but agony spiked through his leg, and he found he could not seem to move it very well. The sagging ceiling above them groaned ominously, and Obi-wan positioned his body between it and the tiny infant that kicked against the swaddling blanket, face red from screaming. The flames soared higher, and the beams supporting the roof were being melted away. Obi-wan’s hold on the Force was slipping, his energy rapidly eaten away by the explosion and the strain of holding the shield. With a shuddering sigh, he made sure Luke was protected before his vision slipped out of focus. The last thing he heard was the shriek of the ceiling giving way. 

********

Vader came to with a painful lump on the back of his head. He sat up, realizing as he did that something had happened. Thick smoke filled the room, and fire was licking at the support beams and burning debris scattered around the room. His ears didn’t seem to be working properly. The center of the flames was the brightest spot in the room, and by its light he could just make out the Imperial symbol on the side of the fighter, melting in the heat. 

Panic drove him to his feet, but he buckled as a deep hacking cough racked his body, driving him back to his knees. Luke! His mind screamed. Through watering eyes he searched for his former master and the infant. He crawled forward, certain he saw a body on the floor, silhouetted against the fire behind him. Then the shape moved, and he knew it was indeed Obi-wan. The auburn head lifted as the ceiling drooped downward, then dropped again as the Jedi tucked himself tightly into a ball. 

Vader grit his teeth and dragged himself forward a little more. There was an overturned cot in his way, and he tried to get past it, only to slump to the floor as a nurse droid careened out of the smoke, its shredded wires sparking before it clattered to the ground. 

“Obi-wan!” he heard distantly. He wasn’t sure at first that he had heard it, everything was so muffled. But then he saw a familiar figure in the doorway, blue and white montrals flying as she picked her way across the glass and splintered metal. A second figure followed close on her heels, followed by five clones, and the Sith’s eyes widened as the ceiling twisted and dropped. 

NO! His mind screamed. He would not lose Padme this way! 

Anakin rose to his knees and channeled everything he had into shoving the falling roof away from his wife and child. Dark, light, it didn’t matter. Nor did the burning rubble falling toward him. All that mattered was making sure Padme and his son was safe. 

******** 

Cody raced to his fallen commander. “General Kenobi!” Cody dropped to one knee on the man’s other side, hand hovering over the Jedi’s leg, where a long sharp piece of shrapnel had pierced through the thigh just above the knee. 

Kix took one look and cried, “Don’t remove that!” 

Tano turned away for a moment, speaking into a commlink on her wrist. Cody hardened his resolve as he took stock of what they needed to do. They needed to get out of this hazardous room and the billowing smoke as soon as possible. He ordered Boil and Crys to take Senator Amidala outside. Commander Tano carefully extracted a squirming baby from a hollow the general had formed with his body, and Cody realized what must have happened. The Togruta cradled the natborn, loosely tucking the blanket around his face to protect him from the acrid smoke, and Cody took charge of Kenobi. 

“We’ll have to carry him out. Trapper, Kix, help me.” Together the three lifted the unconscious Jedi, and they followed Ahsoka through the rubble and outside to where a massive round saucer of a ship was landing. 

“Luke!” Senator Amidala was waiting for them, blaster cast aside as she took the weakly crying natborn from Commander Tano. Cody thought he saw a weequay with a red bandana tied around its head get onto the ship ahead of them, and he vaguely identified him as a pirate before he caught sight of Rex at the top of the ramp. Another weequay in a long purple coat stood next to him, and Cody blinked at the oddness of it. 

The three clones carrying the trai—Jedi tried not to jostle him, but the man was starting to wake and stir feebly. Cody focused on working with his brothers to get the Jedi to safely, wrenching memories out of reach of the dark place that tried to make him believe the man was scum, and to take him back to the Supreme Commander as ordered. He conjured up memories of the clipped Coruscanti accent, the kind words and quips, and the times the man had rescued or mourned the vod. The memories centered him, and they made it up the ramp and onto the ship. 

The engines droned and fired, lifting into the air. The clones carefully settled Kenobi on his back, making room for Kix. Obi-wan groaned, his thin frame shuddering as he awoke. Kix held him down gently, stopping him from moving. Cody hoped it was just the lighting of the hold that made the General’s face so pale. 

Rex laid a hand on his shoulder, and Cody glanced at him. The reassuring squeeze tightened suddenly, and Cody turned back to his general. Kix carefully touched the protruding shrapnel, and General Kenobi’s breath hissed through his teeth. His face was now gray, accentuating the dark circles and bruises on the man’s skin. Blood began to ooze from the leg wound, and Kix cursed. 

“Kenobi! My friend! How--?” The weequay in the long coat elbowed his way in, then swore loudly. 

“Bring me any medical supplies you have,” Kix said in a low voice. “NOW.” 

“Of course, of course, no need to get snappy,” the pirate said. Cody glared at his back as the weequay disappeared, presumably for the supplies. “Young Jedi Tano, if you could go assist the gunning crew that would be just the thing for this partnership.” 

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, casting one last anxious look at General Kenobi. Turbulence rattled the ship, and she left quickly. 

“Hondo said he did have some basic supplies, but nothing like what we have on medical transports,” Rex said worriedly. 

“He really needs bacta, several drips, and rest,” Kix said. “I don’t know what the rest of him looks like. But if we don’t stop the bleeding from that leg, he will never make it to a medical center.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Impaled  
> Because apparently even escape/rescue can't be easy.


	24. Burning

Ahsoka didn’t know exactly what had happened within the Force back there. She had felt a powerful surge around her, and the collapsing ceiling hurtled away from them at the same time Obi-wan’s Force signature flickered and dimmed.

The pirates hadn’t been very excited to see her when she showed up in the gunning station. That changed after she told them Hondo had sent her, shoved one of the pirates out of the gunner chair, and promptly shot down a pursuing fighter. After that it became a competition, and when they left atmosphere and entered the hyperspace lane, they cheered and jostled her shoulder as if she were one of them. 

That was when a silent scream ripped through the Force. Ahsoka jerked with surprise, then abruptly left for the hold. When she arrived, Kix, Cody, and Rex were crouching beside Obi-wan, examining the supplies spread out around them. Ahsoka’s heart sank as she saw how limited they were. 

“Try not to move, sir,” Kix was saying. Ahsoka knelt beside her former grandmaster, surprised to see he was conscious. Kix had carefully cut away the fabric surrounding the shrapnel. The Jedi Master’s skin was clammy and pale, and his breathing was shallow. She saw his lips move, and she bent closer.

“Take care… Luke first,” he requested. 

Ahsoka sat back, seeing the pleading expression, even with one of his eyes almost swollen shut. “Padme is taking care of him,” she soothed. “Kix already gave him a once-over.” She didn’t know if the medic had yet, but it seemed to do the trick. Obi-wan relaxed a little more. 

Kix swiveled, glancing at the wound, and shook his head grimly. “It’s no good stitching it,” he said to Cody. “And once that comes out, we’ll need to prevent blood loss. He’s too weak to lose much more. The only way I can think of is to cauterize it…” 

As if on cue, Hondo announced his return. “I could not find what you asked for, but maybe one of these would work?” He dropped several ship repair tools in front of Kix.   
They were all sparkers and hand torches, Ahsoka realized. She looked down at Obi-wan. He gazed back, surprisingly steady. She carefully opened herself up to the Force and lent him some of her strength. It wasn’t much, but it was the least she could do for what was coming. She would give him a sleep suggestion, but his shields were up and it had been a long time since she had practiced. 

“We’re gonna need all the help we can get,” Kix said loudly. Crys, Trapper, and Boil got up quickly and approached. 

“He is not looking good,” Hondo said critically. “Do you think they would pay us to take him back?” The comment earned him several murderous looks, and Boil took a step in his direction. The pirate threw up his hands. “I am joking!” Luckily for him, Kix called everyone’s attention his way. 

********

Obi-wan felt more lucid, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “’Soka, save your strength,” he managed. The Togruta obediently reduced the Force flowing into him to a trickle. Obi-wan lifted his head enough to look at Kix. The clone was looking helplessly at the small tool in his hand. When he looked up at Obi-wan, the Jedi nodded his permission. “Do it,” he whispered. “I trust you.” 

Kix blinked once, then gave a sharp nod. “Right. Rex, when I tell you, pull it out. Straight up, nice and quick.” 

The blonde wordlessly put one hand on Obi-wan’s knee and prepared to wrap the other around the metal protruding from Obi-wan’s leg. The others positioned themselves at various points around him. Obi-wan took a careful breath. 

“Hold him still.” The men behind him grab his arms, press on his shoulders, and it’s all he can do to not struggle against them. His leg is throbbing violently, and he knows they have to close the wound. But he knows what comes next. He’s done this before. He watched as Kix flicked on the torch, its end blue-orange with the heat. Sweat beaded on Obi-wan’s forehead. 

The clone medic approached and the arms around him tightened. Obi-wan’s heart pounded fiercely in his chest, throbbing along with the aching heat in his leg. He closed his eyes, then decided against that and watched as Kix crouched down. 

“Ok. Whatever you do, do not let him go, otherwise we’ll be making this worse than it already is. Also,” he directed to Obi-wan, “I know I’ll be asking a lot, but if you can, resist shoving me off with the Force. It might be instinctive when… in the moment.” 

Obi-wan nodded. He didn’t think he would be able to summon much of a push anyway.

“1…2….3…” 

Obi-wan’s scream was hoarse, nearly soundless as Rex yanked the jagged end of the metal free. He arched off the ground, back bending as he tried to get away from the agonizing pain. The hands pinning his body down are impossibly tight and he grit his teeth against the searing fire. His leg spasmed, and the troopers put more of their weight on his lower leg to keep it still. The fire consumed him, burned him from the inside out. Everything was lost in the white-hot agony that filled him. 

Finally, he heard Kix sit back. The pain remained. The brand on his neck throbbed as if in sympathy. Or was that his pulse? He didn’t know. He crashed gratefully into unconsciousness, seeking refuge in its oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.  
> This update was pretty short, so I'll TRY to get another one up tonight.


	25. Careful Ministrations

Rex felt sick. But as bad as he felt, he knew Cody probably felt worst. Kenobi was his General. Rex laid a hand on his vod’s shoulder. “He’ll make it.” He stood, pulling Cody up with him, leaving Kenobi in the hands of Kix. He led the others to one side. When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “It’s good to see you, vod.” He cleared his throat. “How did you…” he gestured towards his own skull, showing a small scar.

“It’s complicated,” Crys said flatly. They explained in as few words as possible. None of them talked specifically about what they personally may have added to the General’s injuries. 

“We can get them out once we meet up with the medical transport,” Rex said. “For whoever wants to.” 

“Medical transport?” Cody asked hopefully. 

Rex nodded. “We will be meeting up with Senator Organa’s ship and medical. As long as Hondo can get us to the right coordinates.” He wished he could take back the words as soon as he said them. The clones huddled together while he told them what he knew about the state of the galaxy. His voice lulled most of the others to sleep. Rex and Cody looked at each other, then sat quietly until Ahsoka returned to the hold. 

“We’ve arrived at the coordinates. The Alderaan ship is docking now. The medical ward is all ready for him.” 

Rex rose and went to stand by his commander. Cody roused his brothers, and they all came to help move General Kenobi to the Organa’s ship. Rex looked down at the former High General, remembering a dark time when they had sweat and suffered together in the putrid mines of Kadavo. 

As if sensing them around him, General Kenobi twitched. There was a brief flash of his bright blue eyes, made brighter by fever, before he seemed to lapse back into unconsciousness. At least, Rex hoped he did. 

Kix had them acquisition the lid from one of the crates the clones had leaned against. They laid it beside the Jedi, and Kix directed them in carefully lifting the General’s body onto it. The Jedi whimpered softly, a sound Rex had never imagined the General could make. Once the man was settled on the flat surface, the clones lifted the flat surface and slowly made their way to the docking port. Rex tried not to think about how much the procession resembled a funeral. 

**********

_Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers—_

“I trust you,” Kix quoted to himself. “He trusts you.” He turned back to the medical bed, where the med-droid was finishing an initial scan. Kix carefully removed the Jedi’s obi and cut away the tunic. He swore loudly. 

The bruising on the Jedi’s face and neck continued across his torso, swirling black and blue and a sickly yellow across the pale skin. A dark purple mass on the Jedi’s side reminisced the toe of a large boot. Burns littered the tops of his shoulders and if Kix had to guess, his back. His wrists were chafed and scabbed, as were his ankles. Shallow cuts explained the blood on the discarded tunic. 

Kix flipped through the report the droid had generated, confirming what he already suspected. Two cracked ribs. Severe contusions, mild concussion, severe dehydration and malnutrition, strained shoulders, cuts and abrasions. Fever setting in. Strained vocal cords. Plus the obvious wounds on neck and leg. And signs of fatigue that Kix knew really meant Force-use exhaustion. 

Kix carefully examined the mark burned into the High General’s neck. There was no sign of infection, much to his relief. Judging by the advanced healing on the wound, he thought there had to have been some kind of salve applied to it early on, perhaps even a little bacta. The cauterized leg wound would be another matter. He had applied a spray that numbed the area as soon as they arrived in the ship’s medbay area. But he would need to check the muscle, see if they could get some synthetic skin over it...

“You, sir, need a bacta tank,” he said to the limp figure. 

“What else is new?” Obi-wan responded weakly, making Kix jump. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” the medic said. “How are you feeling?” It was an automatic question. He didn’t actually expect the High General to respond honestly. He was notorious for avoiding medical treatment.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Obi-wan said. He tried to move and grunted, his head falling back. 

“No moving,” Kix said unnecessarily. “I’m going to wrap those ribs, while the tank is prepared. Senator Organa was right to think we would need it” The Jedi’s good eye opened, fixing on Kix and grounding him away from the insidious whisper in his head that wanted to move him of its own accord. 

Kix uncapped a needle and approached the Jedi. “I’m going to sedate you while we get you in the tank.” 

Obi-wan lifted one trembling hand to bat away the needle. “No. That won’t be necessary.” 

“Sorry, sir,” the medic said, easily getting past the General’s weak attempts to wave him off. “I'd outrank you on this even if we were still an army.” He waited for the sedative to do its work. Only a jet’ii would have even woke up to begin with, he thought. 

“Don’ drown me,” General Kenobi said, his eye fluttering closed. His voice began to slur. “Not… worthhhit.” 

Kix made sure the man’s breathing was steady and that he was truly unconscious before he went to call the remaining med-droids for assistance with the tank. 

*********

Vader found he could not move. He had a vague sense of pain, but he felt detached from himself, as if he were dreaming. He felt stiff. The air felt cool, but it irritated his skin as if he brushed against sand. He was lying on his back, he realized. His stinging eyes widened as a machine lowered something towards his face—a mask of some kind—and his body wouldn’t respond fast enough to prevent it from being placed. He felt it clip into place, realized he was in a body suit of some kind, and then the respirator kicked on. No longer being exposed to the outside air soothed the coarse irritation on his face, and the humidified air from the respirator did not seem to scrape across his throat. 

He could live with the mask just for that, he decided. 

He sensed Sidious nearby, a brooding signature that was ponderously dark and deep. There was anger, and disappointment, and frustration, a mix that Vader instinctively knew did not bode well. He made some incremental movement, and Sidious’s attention turned to him. “Lord Vader. You are awake.”

There was no point in pretending. Vader opened his eyes again, examining the world through a filter that muted the light so it didn’t hurt his eyes. “Yes.” The voice through the mask was deeper, more powerful. He found he liked it. 

“We were not sure you would survive. You were badly burned during the explosion. We found you beneath the rubble.” 

Vader took a moment to collect his memories. That wasn’t what happened. He had been injured during the explosion, but not badly burned. Or was he? He couldn’t… a memory of fleeing figures emerged. Of pushing with the Force, trying to keep the fiery ceiling away from her. Them. He slowly turned his head towards his master. “Padme,” he said, carefully monitoring his master’s demeanor. “Padme was there. Where is she now?” His urgency grew as a change came over Sidious. He became guarded, shielding something. “Is she alright?” 

“My boy,” Sidious said gravely. “I am afraid she was killed in the fire. As was your son. The rebels allowed them to die while they fled with our prisoner.” 

Never had Vader felt such a rush of overbearing emotion. Disbelief helped him sit up. Rage at Obi-wan, the rebels, himself for not protecting her, gave him the strength to swing his legs over the side of the table. Fury gave him hate, a purpose. But grief whipped his power into a howling gale in the Force, powerful enough to circuit med-droids and squeeze sparks from equipment. His thoughts screamed, a single word, denial that all his hopes and dreams and vanished in the smoke: 

NOOOOOOO!


	26. When He Wakes

Padme cuddled Luke close to her, studying his tiny features and humming softly. She rocked him back and forth as she slowly paced back and forth in the small room given her on the shuttle. She could scarcely believe that she was here. Relatively safe, with her little one back in her arms. And she was fairly certain that they were on the way to Alderaan, where she would hold her little girl again too. 

Yet even with the relief was an underlying sense of loss. The Anakin she had last seen was not hers. There had been brief glimpses of him, but something had been twisted inside him, and she didn’t know how to bend it back. Or if it could be. 

A light knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She pressed the button, and the door slid open to reveal one of the clone troopers. The dark face smiled at the sight of the sleeping infant in her arms before lifting to address her. 

“My lady. Do you have a few moments to spare?” 

“Of course, Rex,” Padme answered softly. “Do come in.” 

“Actually, I was hoping… would you be able to sit with General Kenobi for a little while? He is still unconscious,” he added. “But Kix needs his chip removed, and that will take some time and a little recovery.” 

“Of course,” Padme said, briskly turning and gathering up a handful of items for Luke. She followed Rex to the medbay and entered a small private room behind him. When the clone captain stood aside, Padme gasped. 

“Obi-wan?” she whispered. She had seen him briefly when they were entering the pirate’s ship, but she had been so caught up in Luke, and the pirates, and wondering about Anakin… 

Rex and the medic left quietly. Padme wasn’t sure when she had stepped closer to Obi-wan. The Jedi was floating inside a cylindrical tank, his face partially covered by a breathing apparatus. She knew from Anakin that Obi-wan was a very private man and that he would never want her to see him like this –nearly naked, with all his injuries on display. Her fingertips reached out, touching the glass lightly. The smooth surface was faintly warm beneath her fingertips. She would never tell him she had been here, that she had seen what the Empire had done to him. 

What he had gone through for her son. 

Protectors, she thought, looking down at Luke. The Jedi had ever been protectors. 

She would never tell him she had seen him this way, but she would be sure to thank him for his sacrifice when he woke. She looked up at the tank again, vision blurring as a lump rose in her throat. In the recent years she had not approved of the conflict with the Separatists, calling for more diplomatic solutions. She had been right to fear the Chancellor retained too much power for too long. “What has happened to us all?” she whispered. 

No one answered, of course. When Luke began to fuss, she stood and slowly paced back and forth, a wordless sentry while her family’s guardian rested. 

*********

Ahsoka laid her head on her arms. Dealing with Hondo had been as draining and entertaining as ever. The dramatic weequay had, of course, presented a list of costs she would need to pay him for. Eventually they had settled on the pirates keeping this ship she and Rex had landed on Florrum.

“This was a dangerous venture, I will have you know,” Hondo had said grandly. “I’m sure I lost some ships. And I could have died!” The pirate had peered at her shrewdly. “You owe me, Jedi.” 

“Perhaps,” Ahsoka agreed. She had pressed the commlink back into the pirate’s hand. “Keep this,” she had told him. “Just in case.” 

Hondo paused for the briefest instant before holding the little device up to his eye. “What does it have, some kind of tracking device?” he asked suspiciously.   
Ahsoka crossed her arms, face serene. “We know the location of your base,” she had reminded the pirate. 

“Not for much longer, perhaps,” Hondo said, bouncing the loose commlink in his palm. “After the feat I just pulled off? It is time to move on, I think.” 

“You may be right. Keep the communicator. It’s set to an encrypted link called Fulcrum. It’s the only way you’ll ever be able to reach me.” 

She’d seen the recognition in his eyes of what that meant. That she was choosing to trust him. He had nodded, then returned to his own ship, loudly ordering his men to undock and prepare for accounting. 

After the pirates had left, she had helped the clones. They had come to her, looking to Rex when the words wouldn’t come. “Would you be wiling to help them remove the chips?” Rex had asked. 

“We don’t trust ourselves,” Cody said tightly. “Not until we know it’s really us.” 

Ahsoka had aided the scanners in detecting the chips, sitting with the clones while Rex retrieved Kix. Once the medic had his chip removed, he was eager to return to the medbay. Rex had encouraged them all to rest, personally knowing how immediate action could cause intense nausea. Ahsoka had volunteered to sit with her grandmaster while Kix recovered. She hadn’t expected Padme to be there. The Senator’s eyes were red-rimmed, but she had nodded to Ahsoka. They sat in companionable but worried silence until Padme had to leave to take care of her baby. 

So Ahsoka lay her head down, tired but too worried to sleep. There was a standard hour left until they reached Alderaan. She looked up at her grandmaster. Kix had said he thought the Jedi would pull through, but she still worried that she had been too late. 

They had gotten Obi-wan and Luke away from Sidious, but what about Anakin? Had he been killed by the 501st? She had heard a rumor while on Baluria, but…. No, it couldn’t be. Surely Master Obi-wan would know what had happened to Anakin. He always knew things and had an idea of what to do next. 

When he awoke, Obi-wan could tell her it would be alright.

******

Maul clenched the controls of the stolen ship. He glared at the cold expanse of stars, brooding. He had made if off that smoldering pit of a planet while Sidious had been pulling Skywalker from the smoking remains of his decrepit building. If he had had a weapon, he may have been tempted to attack the old man. But he didn’t, and finding out where the ship was taking Kenobi was paramount to everything else. 

The ship had disappeared into hyperspace. He had lost him. _Again._ His teeth ground together. Fine, he seethed. He knew Kenobi was suffering at the moment. That would have to be enough for now. Now that everything had been taken from the pathetic Jedi, he could be killed, and Maul would finally have the full measure of his revenge. 

The zabrack punched in some random coordinates. He would go to the Outer Rim, away from Sidious’s stronghold, and recover his own strength. Then the hunt for Kenobi would resume. 

Once he found out why the Jedi had released him, Obi-wan Kenobi would die by Maul’s hand.


	27. Another Day, Another Medbay

Alderaan was a beautiful planet. Its mountains and waterfalls were clean and breathtaking. Even the white buildings had a classic elegance to them. Known for its art, music, food, and connection to nature, it would soon be known for something more. Bail Organa and his wife, Queen Breha, had plans. 

Senator Organa stood on the landing platform with his hands folded in front of him, next to his wife. The Queen held the active bundle of Leia that had already captured their hearts. The transport he had sent had safely returned. 

Bail waited until the shuttle’s engines died and the ramp lowered before he strode to the shuttle. Skywalker’s former apprentice, Ahsoka Tano, was one of the first off. He greeted her, then looked up to see Padme Amidala, another infant in her arms. 

“Padme,” he said with a warm and delighted smile. “You have him.” He looked up the ramp, waiting for the rescued Jedi. When the ginger-haired Jedi didn’t appear, he looked to Tano. “Obi-wan?” 

“We got him out too,” the Togruta said, “but he’s . . . not well. Our medic is with him now, removing him from the bacta tank.” 

Bail was not surprised that Obi-wan's condition had worsened from the last time he had seen the Jedi. “Your medic?” the Senator asked curiously. He looked up the ramp again. This time there were a group of five clones, standing uncertainly together, watching him. For a moment Bail thought of a young padawan with dark hair and blaster fire. He recovered quickly, however, and waved them down. “I see,” was all he said. “If your medic finds it agreeable, I would ask that he stay with Obi-wan.” He glanced back to where Breha was waiting. “Our medical team is not accustomed to treating Jedi. I understand it is somewhat different.” 

One of the clones, with short blonde hair and blue paint on his armor, nodded and briskly walked back into the shuttle. Bail nodded, turning to wave at a medical team that had been hanging back. “Is the little one well?” he asked a trifle anxiously. 

Padme pulled back the blanket to show him her son. “He seems to be fine,” she said, smiling tenderly down at him. 

“Good.” Bail nodded. He would have liked to see his old friend, but propriety asked that he escort Padme and Breha inside. Besides, the medical team would see to Obi-wan, and for now the Senator would only get in the way. He walked with Padme to where Breha waited. 

Bail’s wife smiled welcome and transferred Leia into Padme’s arms. With an infant in each arm, Padme rocked back and forth, bouncing soft, studying first one and then the other. Leia’s hair was slightly darker than Luke’s, as was her eyes. Luke did not squirm as much as his sister. 

They were perfect.

She looked up at Breha, eyes brimming with gratitude and joy. The Organas watched for a moment, arms around each other, before walking with the relieved mother inside. Breha squeezed Bail’s hand, and he gave a gentle squeeze back, seeing the sadness behind his wife’s delighted smile. They already loved Leia. 

Once inside, Tano and the clones intercepted Bail. “Is there somewhere we could wait to see Obi-wan?” the Togruta asked. 

Bail nodded. “Of course. Follow me.” They left the women to making arrangements for the two infants, and he led the small group to the medical ward waiting room. Its large glass windows gave a clear view of the isolated observation room, where they could see the med team bustling around a curtained bed. 

The clones stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the activity inside. Bail glanced at them, then raised an eyebrow at Ahsoka in askance.

“They’re from Master Obi-wan’s command,” she explained quietly. She explained about the chips that had controlled the clones, causing them to turn on the Jedi and serve the Emperor, and that after the chips were removed, the clones returned to themselves. 

Senator Organa paled, looking at the clones with new eyes. “That explains much,” he murmured. How awful for them, to realize . . .   
On the other side of the glass, the curtains were drawn back, and Bail frowned as he saw the still form on the bed. The red hair was still damp, darker from the bacta, and there were deep shadows under the Jedi’s eyes. Evidence of swelling and bruising on the pale face had lightened considerably, he was sure; bacta was known for its almost miraculous properties. Still, the Jedi looked gaunt. Bail folded his arms, watching as one of the medics examined the Jedi’s leg before pulling a sheet over the inert form. 

One of the medics pulled a drip to the bedside and dabbed the inside of the Jedi’s elbow. As soon as the needle touched the skin, the Jedi flailed, coming to life with a wild thrash. The medic reeled back as Obi-wan’s eyes opened and he tried to roll from the bed. Instantly the medics intervened, with one of the clones hurrying forward. Obi-wan bucked against the hands holding him down while others inserted the dripline into his veins. 

“What’s going on?” one of the clones whispered anxiously. “Something’s wrong!” 

Bail had no response. He could only watch while the clone medic spoke soothingly to the injured Jedi. Obi-wan relaxed slowly, and the medics pressing him down eased off. The clone medic shook his head to a question, frowning heavily. Obi-wan’s chest rose and fell in heaving breaths, and the clone laid a hand on the Jedi’s forehead. Whatever he felt there caused him to snap an order, and two of the team leaped to wet cloths. 

“Fever.” Bail rubbed a hand across his jaw, watching as the cooling cloths were spread over Obi-wan’s flushed skin. The Jedi squirmed away from the wet cloth, weakly clawing at the fluid drips. Again, hands grasped him, and Obi-wan’s distress increased. 

Bail left quickly, rushing to the observation room’s doorway. He was blocked from entering by the blonde clone. 

“Stay out there, sir,” the clone said, his shoulders blocking the Senator even as the clone looked over his shoulder. “It’s not a good time.”

Bail’s eyes narrowed, but he didn't push it. He could just see the clone medic uncap a short needle and inject the Jedi with something. Soon Obi-wan drooped back, his eyes fluttering shut and his breathing evening as the sedative took effect. 

The clone medic stood. “Let him in, Rex,” he said, still looking down at Obi-wan. The blonde clone, Rex, stood aside, and Bail stepped into the room. 

“Get those restraints,” the clone medic was saying, shoulders slumping. “He’ll hate it, but he is in desperate need of fluids and we can’t risk him tearing that drip out.” The clone turned to Bail. “It will be some time before he wakes up, Senator. If you would wait outside for a few minutes, then we can allow visitors, unless you want to wait until he is more stable."

“Yes, of course,” Bail said, feeling slightly foolish. He cleared his throat. “I just… anything you need for his treatment, ask.” He nodded to the med team, casting one last look at the Jedi he respected above all others. His eyes lingered on the symbol burned into the man's neck. He turned away. “One last thing,” he said, turning back. “His leg. It looked . . . burned?” 

The clone nodded wearily. “Shrapnel. We had to cauterize it before we arrived at the shuttle.” 

Bail nodded and backed out of the room, a faraway look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly finished! Just a few conversations left that shape how the rest of the AU would change things.   
> The last few updates may be posted really quickly so I can spend holidays with family.


	28. I'm So Sorry

When Obi-wan awoke, he could hear low voices. Something was pricking the inside of his elbow, and he moved to brush it off. His other hand jerked to a stop, and he realized he was tethered to whatever surface he lay on. Disappointment clenched in his gut. They must not have made it out, he realized. He remembered now, the fire and the building collapsing around him. Later had been the sensation of being submerged, and something on his face. The muzzle, he thought dully. Had they tried to drown him? 

A spike of anxiety had him jerking his arms against the restraints. The padded cuffs tightened around his forearms. Where was Luke? And the clones? His eyes opened fully, taking in the dim gray lighting. He felt as weak as a loth kitten. He pulled against the tethers again, trying to prop himself up on his elbows, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Obi-wan slumped back, turning his attention to the voices outside. 

“. . . still a core world. If we were to be discovered here—” 

“Nonsense. It wouldn’t be any more of a problem than—” 

The voices were little more than whispers, and it was difficult to tell who was speaking. Obi-wan reached out with a tendril of the Force, slightly shocked to find that he was able to do so. With the sense extended, he knew there were three presences outside the small room. 

“I think he’s awake,” said the third party, and Obi-wan jerked his shields up reflexively. A moment later, familiar faces were peering at him from the doorway. 

Obi-wan took what felt like his first real breath since waking up. There was a dull ache in his ribs, but nothing like the spiking shards of pain there had been before. Relief at seeing friends healed the anxiety of moments before. 

“I’ll go get the medic,” Bail said, disappearing again. 

Obi-wan blinked. Where was he? What was Bail doing here? He watched Ahsoka and Padme pull up chairs. Padme carried two infants in her arms. One of them was Luke, Obi-wan realized. A faint smile ghosted across his face, only to fade as they settled nearby. Guilt curdled in his stomach. 

“I’m so sorry, Padme,” he croaked. 

The Senator knit her brow. “For what? Luke is safe.” She shifted her son so Obi-wan could see better. The infant looked back at him. “My children are safe, thanks to you.”   
She smiled warmly, but Obi-wan shook his head, head lolling on the pillow. “If it weren’t for me Luke wouldn’t have been left behind in the first place.” 

“Rex told us how it happened,” Padme said. She shifted so Ahsoka could take Luke. “It wasn’t possible at the time. But you chose to stay. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” Her voice threatened to crack on the last sentence. 

The normally composed Senator’s gratitude increased Obi-wan’s guilt. He glanced back and forth between the two, wondering how he was going to tell them. Dread and guilt lodged in his throat. He looked away from Ahsoka, unable to meet either pair of eyes. “You don’t understand,” he whispered huskily. “Anakin—” his voice broke. Even though he was not looking directly at them, he knew Ahsoka and Padme exchanged a concerned glance. “Anakin was there. At the fire.” 

“He’s alive?” Ahsoka interrupted. Her free hand reached for his, and Obi-wan flinched away. 

“Ahsoka…. He….” Bands squeezed around his lungs and heart, releasing the lances of internal pain he had carefully locked away. “He has fallen.” 

A heavy silence fell over them at the words. Obi-wan continued with difficulty. “He allied himself with the Sith. Called him master.” His throat tightened at the memory of seeing Anakin, Vader, in the Chancellor’s office. 

“No,” Ahsoka whispered fiercely. “It can’t be true. Anakin would never—” Her fierce certainty faltered at the expressions on her friends’ faces. Tears glittered on Padme’s cheeks when she looked up at Ahsoka. 

“I have seen footage of him . . . killing younglings.” Obi-wan’s eyes squeezed shut. There was a long pause while Ahsoka tried to take in what he was saying. Obi-wan now met her eyes, a deep anguish darkening the vibrant blue. “It’s my fault.” He said it in the manner one would a confession. 

It was Padme that shook her head. “No,” she said dully. “It isn’t your fault.”

“It is,” Obi-wan whispered. “I should have been a better master to him. I should have seen the true nature of Palpatine’s interest in befriending him. I wasn’t a good enough—” he cut off when Bail and Kix arrived. His gaze dropped away, and Ahsoka numbly stood to allow the medic closer to her grandmaster. 

“How are you feeling, General?” Kix asked, taking Obi-wan’s temperature. 

“Better now that you’re all here,” Obi-wan said, forcing a weak smile. “Although I’d feel even better without these.” He lifted his left arm as far as the tether would allow. 

“The fever broke,” Kix said, brightening. He looked down at Obi-wan, who still held the arm in the air hopefully. “Promise you won’t pull out the drip, and it’s a deal,” he said.

Obi-wan’s hand dropped. “Really, Kix. Would I do that?” Kix crossed his arms and lifted one eyebrow. Obi-wan shifted, uncomfortable beneath the clone’s accusing glare. “I . . . promise?” he said hopefully. 

Kix studied him for a moment, then nodded once. “Very well, sir.” He unbuckled the straps from the Jedi’s forearms, shooting Obi-wan a warning look before letting go of his wrist. “Would you like to sit up?” the medic asked. 

“Yes, please,” Obi-wan said meekly. 

Bail chuckled while the clone helped Obi-wan sit up and arrange pillows behind him. “I’m impressed,” he said to the medic. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this stubborn bantha back down.” 

“Good to see you too, Bail,” Obi-wan said, glancing the Senator’s way. Kix checked the fluid drip line while Obi-wan watched the clone warily. “Don’t underestimate the cunning of the medics. They are far too capable of using sedatives.” 

“Only for you, sir,” Kix said, shooting a stern look over his shoulder at the Jedi. There was a clear note of fondness in the clone’s voice, despite the cutting look. “Usually sedatives are a measure of last resort.” 

“Could have fooled me,” Obi-wan grumbled. He looked at Senator Organa. “Did I hear some kind of argument before you all came in?” 

“Bail wants us to stay here on Alderaan,” Padme said. “But it’s too dangerous. If we were discovered here, the Empire would descend upon Aderaan.” 

Bail shrugged. “I don’t see how your presence would make much difference,” he said seriously. “Breha and I have talked it over. I have been working with another member of the Imperial Senate to discretely find sympathetic parties that may be willing to fight against the Empire. She will be speaking out publicly in the next Senate meeting, calling for support for the cause.”

“Mon Mothma,” Obi-wan said thoughtfully. His attention swiveled to Padme. “I must agree with Bail on this,” he said to her. “Alderaan will be a known supporter of this rebellion. It is unlikely that anything else would add to the animosity of the Empire against them.” 

Bail chimed in. “There is also a more personal nature to this request,” he said softly. “Breha and I have long wanted children of our own. Our time with Leia has been . . . wonderful. We would dearly love to have her remain nearby.” 

Padme looked down at her children. Sensing her wavering, Obi-wan said, “It would not be unusual for a queen to hire a handmaiden to help with raising children. Such positions usually maintain a sense of anonymity, as you well know.” He smiled. “This way the Organas can still spend time with Luke and Leia, and you will all have protection. You would still be able to be involved in the movement to overthrow the Emperor. The only alternative would be constantly moving, which would be difficult considering the circumstances.” 

Padme pressed her lips together, then looked at Obi-wan and Bail. “I accept,” she said. She looked to Bail. “I would very much like to hear about this Alliance.” Bail nodded, and she stood to follow him out. 

Obi-wan made to get out of bed. Kix whirled around with a challenging look. “I’m not pulling it out,” Obi-wan said hastily. “It’s got wheels. The drip can come with me.” 

Kix pushed a hand on Obi-wan’s chest. “Not a chance,” he growled. “You’re staying in bed. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Obi-wan hesitated, not wanting to be sedated again. The clone medic jogged after Padme. 

Obi-wan considered making a break for it, but when he looked at Ahsoka, sorrow and grief flashed across his features. The Togruta had been silent for some time. She stood to one side, her arms wrapped around herself while she stared at the floor. Obi-wan struggled to sit up out of the mountain of pillows and go to her, but Kix returned.

“Down,” the medic ordered. Before Obi-wan could respond, the medic had settled Luke and Leia in his arms, one on each side, so their tiny bodies were snuggled against him. Obi-wan huffed in surprise. The younglings squirmed in protest whenever he tried to move, and Obi-wan leaned back in confusion. 

“Kix?” he questioned, confused. 

The medic grinned wickedly. “That should work,” he said contentedly. 

Ahsoka looked up then, shuffling closer to Obi-wan’s bed. She smiled, somewhat sadly. “Master Obi-wan?” she said softly. The Jedi glanced up at her, a faint line between his brows. “Anakin. I’ve known… he’s had seeds of darkness in him for a long time. I’ve seen him act on them before.” She gently took his face in her hands, making sure he would look at her. “It’s not your fault,” she said firmly. Releasing him, she told him about the surge in the Force that had shoved the collapsing building away from them all. “I thought it was you,” she said, describing it. “But now . . . it must have been Anakin.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He saved us, but the rest of the place fell. If he was there, then . . .” 

“It fell on him,” Obi-wan said, closing his eyes. Solemn silence fell again as the two quietly mourned their friend. 

“Cody and the rest made it out too,” Ahsoka finally said. “They weren’t sure you would want to see them.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Obi-wan asked, surprised. “Tell them I would love to see them.” 

Ahsoka nodded. “I’ll go tell them. Do you need to rest before they come in?” 

Obi-wan shook his head, ignoring the heaviness in his muscles and eyelids. Ahsoka stood, lightly resting a hand on her grandmaster’s shoulder before she left.


	29. New Hope

The clones filed in, hanging back slightly. Obi-wan didn’t dare gesture and disturb the sleeping younglings, but he tipped his head forward slightly, inviting them closer. Hesitantly, they did so, pulling up chairs or leaning on the backs of those occupied. Obi-wan greeted them each by name. “How are you?” 

“The chips are gone,” Cody confirmed. 

He wouldn’t meet Obi-wan’s eyes, and the Jedi frowned. “But?” he prompted. 

“We hurt you,” Boil spat. 

Obi-wan’s eyes flicked to the bearded clone, seeing the shame and self-loathing in all of them. “No, you didn’t,” he started. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“With all due respect, sir, I _whipped_ you,” Cody said stiffly. “And I didn’t fight it until—” 

Obi-wan took a careful breath, willing strength back into his voice. “Listen, all of you,” he said crisply. The clones looked up, spines straightening in an automatic military response. “What happened was not you. It was not your choice. You are the victims here,” he emphasized. “Whatever your training is telling you, know that I do not blame you in any way.” His voice softened. “Your personal character overcame something incredibly dark and powerful. I am very proud of you all. And grateful that you fought at my side again.” He looked each of them in the eye. “I would not be here now, SAFE, without you.” 

“Thank you, General,” Cody whispered. Obi-wan could see lingering doubt, but for now the clones tried to believe him. Cody suddenly remembered something, reaching out of sight and placing Obi-wan lightsaber on the bedside table. "I grabbed this for you, sir." 

Obi-wan grinned. "Thank you, Cody. So, how are you all feeling?” he asked again. 

“Better, sir,” Boil said. “It’s a relief to know the chip is gone.” 

Leia kicked against his side. Startled, Obi-wan looked down, absently bouncing the youngling gently. She looked around with wide dark eyes, but he was able to settle her and her eyes drooped again as she lapsed into sleep. Obi-wan’s mouth was dry again, but he visited with the clones for several minutes. 

“Rex said Master Yoda was alive,” Cody said. “He went to Dagobah. According to Rex, he didn’t feel ready to confront Sidious. He blames himself for what happened.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Obi-wan snorted. “Sidious fooled everyone. I don’t think even Master Yoda could defeat him alone.” The clones looked one at one another, and a sudden idea took root in the Jedi’s mind as he glimpsed a short thin scar on Cody’s head. “Would you rather not have known?” he asked suddenly. “Would you rather, I don’t know, not been woken up to find out what . . . happened to you?” 

The clones looked at each other again. Obi-wan was suddenly afraid of their answer, and it was now he that couldn’t meet their eyes. 

“No,” Cody said finally. “Knowing what we did is. . . terrible. But Sidious stole everything from us. Our brothers are worse than dead.” A bitter grief filled the room, and Obi-wan’s idea solidified a little more.

“What if,” he started slowly, thinking it through as he spoke, “we could save them?” He would have stood and paced, but he was still pinned to the bed by the younglings. “It would be risky, and slow,” he warned, seeing the eager lights in their eyes. “I won’t promise anything. But Sidious is deploying the clones as his army until he can train new cadets. That means they will be on ships, in smaller numbers than usual.” 

“Ships can be raided,” Cody said, his mind following Obi-wan’s thought process perfectly. 

“We were preparing Baluria for you, for after the war” Obi-wan told them. “There is medical equipment there. Advanced enough to remove the chips, if I am not mistaken.” 

“They wouldn’t go willingly,” Crys said doubtfully. “Not at first.” 

Obi-wan thought for a minute. “We’d have to transport them in cells,” he said reluctantly. “And I don’t want to force any of your brothers to have such an invasive procedure.” Doubts were creeping in, and he began to dismiss the idea. But the clones’ enthusiasm was growing. 

“With all due respect, sir, our agency has already been violated,” Boil said matter-of-factly. 

“It would be cruel to force any vod to realize what was done,” Obi-wan warned. “The mental hardships could very well drive them to self-harm. I know that you clones were programmed, trained, to protect Jedi, and feel responsible for our well-being.” He hadn’t planned the speech, but that’s what it was turning into. “It isn’t their fault, but they would blame themselves.” 

“That may be,” Cody agreed. “Some, like Krell, we obeyed only because of our training. But for most of us, we chose the Jedi because you valued us. You allowed us to be unique. Used our names. Fought alongside us, and for us. You’re vod too. We betrayed our Jedi, but perhaps we can make up for it now by fighting against the Emperor.” 

Obi-wan found he couldn’t speak. The sincerity in Cody’s words left him speechless. Until a new idea occurred to him. With enough vod, perhaps he and Master Yoda would be able to face Sidious. And in the meantime, they could disrupt the Sith’s plans by raiding the Imperial fleets, saving the clones and seeking information about Sidious’s plans. They could pass it along to Bail’s rebel alliance. Over time, perhaps they would succeed in restoring the Republic. 

“Do you truly think that your brothers would want this?” he asked one last time. 

The clones agreed unanimously, and Obi-wan smiled, hiding a yawn. “Then, it seems I must contact Hondo. We are going to need a ship with holding cells.” He said it as calmly as if he were going for a walk, not planning to become a rebel pirate. 

Cody smiled a genuine, somewhat wolfish smile. Obi-wan found himself mirroring it. 

“We’ll be right beside you, sir,” Kix promised. He hadn’t missed the yawn, or the fact that the General’s eyes were starting to droop. “But not until you’ve fully recovered. That means food, letting us care for you, not working, and rest.” The medic shooed the other clones out the door and flicked off the light, leaving General Kenobi snuggled with the younglings. 

Maybe Ahsoka and Rex will join us, Obi-wan thought as he was drifting off to sleep. Maybe they would even find other surviving Jedi.

And maybe there was hope for the galaxy after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a ride this has been! Thank you to all who have commented, left kudos, etc.! It was fun to hear people's predictions and responses. Thanks to anyone that stuck with this fic! Enjoy whatever holidays you personally celebrate, and may the Force be with you.


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